


When He Was Special

by Constantius



Series: Special [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2020-10-27 12:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 152,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20760692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Constantius/pseuds/Constantius
Summary: COMPLETE!Still powerless, El is settling into a new life with the Byers in Maine.  As the Fourth of July approaches, the Party comes to visit, including a certain Mike Wheeler.  All El and Mike want to do this summer is explore the intense new feelings they have for one another, but the Mind Flayer isn’t done with El yet and neither is Martin Brenner.This tale has action and adventure, thrills and chills, romance and comedy.  There are demogorgons and Mind Flayers, secret government projects, spooky old houses, and hidden catacombs.  There are even riddle games and magic spears.  And of course there’s plenty of Mileven, plus Steve, the Party and a dash of Dart.There’s some angst, lots of fluff, and a little bit of smut (nothing over the top though).  Rated M.





	1. The Gathering

**Bath, Maine – French Hill Overlook**   
**Tuesday, July 1, 1986**

Mike Wheeler had to admit that this time Steve was right. The car _was_ awesome.

It was a majestic 1972 Chevy El Camino SS. Gleaming chrome grill and bumpers. Oversized racing tires. A monster engine that growled like an angry lion. It was painted in glorious cherry red that practically screamed, _Pull me over and give me a speeding ticket_. Black double racing stripes accented the hood.

The machine combined all the best features of a pony car and a pick-up truck. It was the automotive equivalent of a mullet - business in the front, party in the back.

Most awesome of all, _Mike was driving_. 

He was sixteen years old and he had his learner’s permit and he was _badass_.

They crested the hill. “That’s enough, Wheeler,” Steve Harrington said from the passenger seat. “Time to pull over and hand the wheel back.”

“Come on, Steve,” Mike almost whined. “We’re nearly there! If El saw me roll up in this ride, she’d be amazed!”

“What? ‘Saw you roll up in this ride?’ Don’t try to talk street, Wheeler, you sound ridiculous. Besides, El will be amazed when she sees you just because you’re such a stud.” Mike scowled at the older boy’s teasing. Steve gestured to the side of the road. “Seriously, Wheeler. Pull over.”

Mike sighed and turned at the top of the hill. He parked at an overlook that gave a panoramic view of the town of Bath and the shining silver waters of the Kennebec River. 

The cozy little New England hamlet of Bath was home to one of the great shipbuilding yards of the world. It was also home to Mike’s friend Will Byers and the Byers family. They’d moved to Bath nine months ago to start fresh, fleeing too many bad memories and too many lost loves.

Living with the Byers was a girl named Jane Hopper or Jane Byers or Jane Ives or Eleven, depending on who you talked to.She called herself El, the name that Mike had given her. Mike loved her more than anything in the world. He hadn’t seen her for six months and now she was less than a mile away.

“Shift change,” Steve announced as he got out of the car. “Who wants shotgun?”

“I’ll take it,” Dustin said as he hopped from the bed of the El Camino. The curly-haired boy stretched, working out the kinks in his legs from the long drive. “I need a break from picking bugs out of my teeth.”

“It’s not that bad,” Steve snorted, “you just have to sit behind the cab and keep your head down and there’s no problem.”

“Says the guy who never rides in the back,” Lucas growled. The young African-American boy also jumped out of the car’s bed, followed closely by his flame-haired girlfriend Max.

“If you had a learner’s permit, you could take a turn at the wheel, too. But somehow only Wheeler managed to talk his parents into it.”

Lucas scowled.Steve’s logic was hard to argue with. 

“I still don’t understand why I don’t get to finish the drive,” Mike pouted.

Steve stepped next to the lanky, black-haired teen and pointed to the town spread out below them. Bath glowed in the hot July sun, an oasis of New England architecture and verdant parks, framed by the gleaming river. “Wheeler, see that beautiful town down there? Look closer.”

Mike peered at the town, squinting.

“Do you see that park there on the river? Where all the people are walking around enjoying the sunshine? Some of those people will be attractive young women wearing short shorts and bikini tops. When this car cruises through that park, those attractive young women are going to look at it and think to themselves, _Wow, I wonder who owns that?_” Steve pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, snapped them open, and slid them on. “I’m driving.”

* * *

Lucas and Max joined Dustin at the edge of the overlook.

“It’s a nice town,” Dustin told them. “You guys are lucky you’re here now, in the summer, when it’spretty. It’s okay in the winter, I guess, but only if you like cold and snow.”

“So this is where you…” Lucas tapped his eye.

His girlfriend slapped his arm. “You’re such an idiot!”

“What, I’m supposed to pretend that he doesn’t have a scar? He knows he has one!” Lucas was a sweet boy and deeply loyal to his friends, but sometimes the filter between his mouth and his brain went on the fritz.

Max slapped his arm again. “Idiot.” 

“It’s okay,” said Dustin. “Yeah, this is the place.”

Last December, a demogorgon had clawed Dustin across his right eye. It left a scar, two parallel lines starting on his forehead and stretching to his cheekbone. He’d been blind in that eye for over a week. Eventually his vision returned, leaving just the scar as a memento.

Dustin was okay with it. It had bothered him at first, but he eventually decided that it made him look cool and mysterious. There were a lot of superheroes in the comic books who had scars around their eyes, like Nick Fury.

When Dustin visited his girlfriend Suzie and she saw the scar for the first time, she was shocked and sympathetic and comforting, practically cooing over him. Over the next few days, he caught her staring at it, not with revulsion or loathing as he’d feared but with wonder and maybe even awe. When he glanced at her, she would blush and look away, but a few hours would pass and she’d be staring at it again. During his entire visit she was sweet and clingy, hugging his arm when they walked and always on his right side where the scar was.

On the last day of his visit, he got up the nerve to ask her if she thought it made him look ugly. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the scar on his forehead and then kissed the scar on his cheekbone and then kissed him on the lips. It was the first time he’d ever been kissed by a girl.

So, yeah, Dustin was okay with the scar.

He pointed out over the river. “It was there, on that island. You see how it rises up and the cliffs fall away to the water? You see that mansion there overlooking the cliff? That’s where we were when the demogorgon attacked, the old Whateley house.”

Max shook her head. “You know, since I moved to Hawkins and started hanging out with you guys, I’ve had to fight weird supernatural monsters like every six months or so. I feel bad Lucas and I weren’t around to help you guys last time… but I’m kind of glad we missed it.” Lucas nodded fervent agreement.

Dustin laughed. “I don’t blame you.I wish I’d missed it.Anyway, as far as I know, the Gate hasn’t opened again and the Mind Flayer hasn’t sent any more minions after us.It’s summer break, we’re in a beautiful place, and all we have to worry about is passing out from too much fun.”

* * *

The El Camino rumbled down the hill and into town.In the cab, Steve rooted through the glove compartment and pulled out a cassette tape.He pushed it in and cranked the volume.Billy Idol’s _Hot in the City_ pumped from the speakers, perfect cruising music for a hot summer day.

Mike sat in in the bed of the El Camino, the sun shining in his face and the wind swirling in his hair.He sang along under his breath to the lyrics blasting from the cab.

_It’s hot here at night,_  
_ Lonely, black and quiet_  
_ On a hot summer night._

_Don’t be afraid_  
_ Of this world we made_  
_ On a hot summer night._

_Cause when a long-legged lovely walks by,_  
_ You can see the look in her eye_  
_ And you know that it’s hot in the city, hot in the city tonight._

He closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him. A long-legged lovely. That was his El. She was amazing, a slender, coltish young beauty who took his breath away. She was genuinely the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Whether it was movies, television, or real life, no one else had ever compared.

She wasn’t just pretty either. She was so smart. He’d been tutoring her every night for six months now, broadcasting from Dustin’s big radio tower Cerebro, while El tuned in from the ham radio they’d given her at Christmas. She was advancing her education in leaps and bounds, making up for years of solitude in the government labs. 

It wasn’t just school work either.Mike had heard every detail of the apprenticeship she was taking that summer at Bath Iron Works. Once she caught up on her education, Mike was pretty sure his girlfriend was going to turn out to be a brain.That was both awesome and somewhat unsettling, since “brain” was Mike’s role and he didn’t know where he would fit in without it.

_For all the dreams and schemes_  
_ People are what they seem_  
_ On a hot summer night._

_Don’t be “no fun”_  
_ Don’t forget you’re young_  
_ On a hot summer night._

_A “sometime someone” you’re not,_  
_ Don’t wait to see what you’ve got,_  
_ Cause you know that you’re hot in the city, hot in the city tonight._

Most of all, El was simply incredible. She was the bravest person he’d ever met in his entire life. She would – she had – put her life on the line for the people she loved again and again. 

How many times had she saved his life now? Not vaguely, generally, the way she saved everyone’s life when she closed the Gate. No, she had directly, individually, undeniably saved his life more times than he could count. Granted, some of those times she’d been a superhero, with powers beyond a normal human’s. But she’d saved his life again last December, without any powers, just an ordinary girl.

Ordinary. As if she would ever be that. With or without powers, El would always be extraordinary.

The only flaw that Mike had ever been able to find in El was that she seemed to be in love with him. It baffled him that she didn’t realize how silly that was. She was the most amazing, brilliant, beautiful girl in the entire world and she was wasting her time on Mike fucking Wheeler.

He supposed being locked up in a lab for twelve years might give someone that kind of distorted judgement.He was pretty sure he was the first person who had ever shown her compassion or affection. She probably had some residual gratitude for that.If you’ve been dying of thirst in the desert and someone offers you water, you won’t mind at first that it’s not Perrier.

Mike figured she’d eventually realize the error of her ways. He just hoped the collateral damage of that realization wouldn’t wipe him out entirely. 

They’d reached the river walk area of Bath, a crowded combination of auto traffic and pedestrians. It was lovely, rich with trees and flowers and people enjoying the water and sunshine.

It also slowed them to an absolute standstill. No one seemed to have the slightest interest in getting out of their way. Mike fretted, feeling like the last few hundred yards to El were going to be the hardest of all.

Inside the cab, Dustin turned to Steve. “It’ll take us all afternoon to get through this mess. Will and El are waiting for us at the far end of the park and at this rate it’ll be nightfall before we reach them.”

Steve smiled. “Crank up the music, Henderson,” he told Dustin. “They’ll part like the Red Sea.” 

Dustin did. And they did.

With the music blaring at ear-damaging decibels, the El Camino rolled to the end of the park. Mike’s heart did a flip-flop that felt more like a half-gainer when he saw her.

_El_.

Her brother Will was standing next to her. Lucas and Max piled out of the car and Dustin was right behind them. Mike almost fell out of the El Camino, stunned, his eyes locked on her.

She was amazing. Sandals on her pretty little feet. Incredible long, slender legs that stretched up and up to a pair of small cut-off jean shorts with the hems rolled up. She wore a loose white cotton shirt with the ends tied up to expose a trim, toned midriff.

She’d cut her hair. It was shorter than he’d seen it in a while. It reminded him of the Snowball and the punk look she’d worn when she came back from Chicago. Except there was nothing punk about her – she was just about the most feminine thing he’d ever seen.

Mike hadn’t thought it was possible, but in the six months since he last saw El, she’d gotten even_more_ beautiful.

Lucas and Max and Dustin were hugging Will, chattering excitedly. Mike realized he’d been standing there, staring at El, slack-jawed like a mouth-breathing moron. She’d been staring at him too. 

“El,” he finally gasped, and she smiled.

“Mike,” she whispered.

He crossed those last few yards to her and took her in his arms and she was hugging him back. He couldn’t even think, all he knew was that his mouth found hers.He reveled in her exquisite, pillowy lips. Her hands knotted in his hair and for a moment time stopped. There was nothing else for him but this girl and this kiss and Mike Wheeler’s world was as good as it would ever be.

* * *

The big man watched through the store window.He finished his coffee and walked to the counter.

“Do you have telephone?” he asked in a thick Russian accent.

The clerk nodded, intimidated.“In the back hall, by the restrooms.”

The big man stomped back that way, his boots booming on the floor.“Local calls only,” the clerk gasped.The big man ignored him.

Thick, blocky fingers punched in the number.After two rings the phone picked up and a calm, patrician voice came down the line.

“Go ahead, please,” the voice said.

“They are here,” the big man said.“I have found them.”

“That was fast,” the voice said.“I’m impressed.”

“They did not make it hard,” the big man said.“What would you have me do, Dr. Brenner?”

For a moment there was silence, as if the man on the other end was considering.“It’s as we discussed.I need the boy.I need him alive.Without him, the girl will be... unmanageable.Take him when you can. I’d prefer no witnesses, but do what you must.”

“What about his friends?”

There was a pause.“I’d prefer that you not kill them, Grigori.We don’t need the attention their deaths would cause, as I’m sure you appreciate.If you feel you must kill them, I trust you will be appropriately... discreet.”

“I understand, Doctor.”

“Grigori,” Dr. Brenner said.“I have full faith in your abilities but I urge you to use caution.The Wheeler boy and his friends are quite resourceful.”

Grigori hung up the phone and walked to the door.

* * *

The demogorgon surfaced in the waters beneath the river walk.Its senses tested the air and it growled softly.The prey was above it, just yards away.

It could kill the prey now, all of them, but it would not.It must be careful, and quiet, while the human cattle walked about.Despite their softness, the humans’ numbers would tell in a conflict of species, at least for now.So the demogorgon would stalk, and hunt, and at the right moment it would make the kill.

The creature slid back into the water, waiting.

* * *

On an island in the Kennebec River, Dart idly scratched his side with a hind foot.The demodog had finished eating a brace of rabbits and he was content.He wondered if he should find a nice rocky ledge and sleep for a few days.

The wind shifted and Dart caught the scent.

The Provider-of-Food.The curly-haired human youngling had returned after many months away.Eager anticipation washed through Dart but then the demodog paused.There were other odors.

The Provider had brought his companions. And near the Provider was the small, slender human that the One-That-Was-All called the Adversary.

Dart had lost his connection to God, the One-That-Was-All.Dart had never fit in with his people after the accidents of his birth.He’d tried to do penance.But in his final test of loyalty, undertaken in the cold months not so long ago, Dart had turned against God. 

He was outcast now - now and forever.

Despite his lost connection to the One-That-Was-All, Dart never lost his sense for the Dark World.He could smell one of the Dark Worlders now.

An Eater.It lurked and it hated.It rested in water.It was near the Provider-of-Food, waiting.

That could be no coincidence.God hated the Adversary more than any other human.To kill her, He would kill anything and everything He had to. The One-That-Was-All would think nothing of killing the Provider if he was in the way.

Dart started to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first work in this series, When She Was Special, because I needed to ease my Stranger Things fix while waiting for ST4. It didn’t work, so I decided to write another one. This is a sequel, but it’s self-contained and you shouldn’t need to read the first work to follow this one. 
> 
> Mike and Eleven and Dustin and Steve are back. I brought back Dart too, this time as a POV character. I added Lucas and Max, but mainly as another lens on Mike and Eleven - there won’t be much Lumax in this story. I’m planning to give Will and Jonathan more to do this time, but I’ll admit the Byers family doesn’t inspire me as much as the other characters do.
> 
> One of the biggest problems with When She Was Special (other than the fact that I need to improve my writing skills) is that Mike and El spend the first half of the story apart and not talking to each other. Not great for a Mileven story! I won’t make that mistake this time.
> 
> I’m going to try a little smut in this story. That’s a first for me so no promises how it will work out. 
> 
> Just a warning that I might not post chapters as quickly as I did on the first work. On that one I had a good amount of it written before I started posting. Now I’m writing and posting as I go. I’ll still try to be as fast as I can.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.


	2. The Fish

**Bath, Maine – The Riverwalk**  
**Tuesday, July 1, 1986**

Mike lost himself in the kiss. He hadn’t tasted El’s lips in six months. Now she was in his arms and it was so much better than he remembered. Her slender form was pressed against him and he was conscious of the bare skin of her waist under his hands and her fingers winding in his hair. It made up for every single one of the one hundred and seventy-nine days they’d been apart.

Eventually, to his dismay, Mike had to break the kiss and come up for air. He and El were almost panting. Her face was flushed and her lips were wet. Her eyes sparkled as they searched his face.

“Wow,” Mike gasped. “That was—”

“—_wow_,” El agreed. A smile like a sunrise lit up her face and Mike wondered if that’s what pure joy looked like.

She was so amazing, he didn’t think he could ever get enough of her.

Then a shadow of guilt fluttered across his mind. He’d been so focused on El, he hadn’t even acknowledged Will’s existence yet. The Party had come all the way from Hawkins, and he was sure they wanted to see El too, and Mike was making out with her like they weren’t even there. As much as he loved El, as much as he wanted to kiss her until the sun burned out, he realized they should probably talk to their friends. He sighed.

El slid her hands to the nape of his neck. Before he knew it, she was pulling him down to her and kissing him again. Her soft lips pushed opened his own and her delightful little tongue was in his mouth and he could barely stifle a groan. 

_Well, maybe the others can wait_, Mike decided. _Hell, Will’s heard all my stories before. And Steve barely even knows El_.

After a while, Dustin cleared his throat loudly. Lucas coughed.

“Geez, Wheeler, it’s a public park,” Steve said. “Get a room already.” 

Mike and El broke the kiss and stepped apart. “Sorry,” said Mike, reluctantly letting go of El’s hand.

“Sorry,” El murmured with a guilty smile.

The Party charged in then, laughing. Will hugged Mike and Max hugged El.Then everyone was trying to hug El all at once and she dissolved into giggles. Mike couldn’t feel that bad about not kissing her, because it melted his heart to see her happy.

* * *

Max was thrilled to see El again. It was great hanging out with the Party in Hawkins, but sometimes so many boys could be a bit much and a girl needed to talk to another girl. After all the hugs and hellos and the chatter, Max took El’s hand. Mike looked ready to say something, but Max pointed at a nearby picnic table. “You and the rest of the Stooges can do your guy stuff over there. El and I are going to talk.” 

Mike pouted. “We haven’t seen each other for _six months_. Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

Max would have been mortified if Lucas ever said something so pathetic, especially in public, but El smiled like a lovesick schoolgirl. Max blinked. She would swear that El had just batted her eyelashes at Mike. 

“Geez, Mike, it’s just for a little bit,” Max said. “Fifteen minutes and then you can have her back.” She pulled El away, but not before her skinny friend blew Mike a kiss and worked in some more eyelash batting. Mike caught the kiss and watched them go with big puppy dog eyes.

_Oh God_, Max groaned inside. _They’re even worse than last summer. How am I going to survive two weeks of this?_

* * *

Mike sighed like a broken man as he watched his girlfriend walk away with Max. He turned and jerked back with a start; Lucas was almost face to face with him. 

“This is pathetic, Mike,” Lucas said. “You’re an embarrassment to your gender.”

Mike realized that all of the boys were looking at him with varying degrees of disdain, except for Steve, who just seemed to think it was funny. “What are you talking about?” Mike asked.

“The mopey eyes. The whining. ‘Are you _trying_ to kill me?’” Lucas mimicked. “Man up, Mike! She’s just going away for a few minutes.”

“But I haven’t seen her in _six months_!” Mike exclaimed. He was conscious he’d said that before. No one had been impressed the first time either.

Will glanced at Dustin. “Is he always like this?” 

The curly-haired boy shrugged. He’d gotten used to Mike pining after El and for the most part he just ignored it. “Only every day.” 

Lucas turned to Will and jabbed his thumb at Mike. “In the middle of February, on the coldest night of the year, he was up on that hill with Cerebro talking to her. If Dustin and I hadn’t dragged him inside, he would have gotten hypothermia.”

“I would not!” Mike protested. “That’s… that’s… I would not!” It wasn’t the best verbal riposte he’d ever delivered. Maybe his brain _was_ a bit addled from being near El. In his defense, it had been_ six months_.

“Wow,” Will said, studying Mike with what seemed like pity.

Lucas nodded. “See? Eleven’s like kryptonite to him. When she’s around, Mike loses his powers of witty banter. And thought in general.“ 

Steve intervened. “Come over and sit with us, Wheeler. You can spare fifteen minutes to talk about sports and hair products with the guys and then you can go see your squeeze.” 

“Hair products?” Lucas snorted. 

Steve frowned. “What? Just because you’re a sports fan doesn’t mean you can’t take care of yourself.” 

“We don’t really talk about sports much, Steve,” Dustin murmured.

“Oh. Okay. What do you guys talk about? Cars? Girls? Movies?”

“We were going to plan a D&D campaign,” Will told him. “We blocked out all of next weekend to play it.”

“Okay. Huh. How about that.” Steve drummed his fingers on the picnic table, smiling. He looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. 

For once Mike could sympathize. 

* * *

Max and El strolled through the park. A gentle wind stirred the trees and rustled the flowers in their beds. The river rushed past, sunlight reflecting from it in flashes of gold.

Max thought she could get used to a place like this. It would be nice to get away from Indiana and a one-horse town like Hawkins. 

“How are you and Lucas doing?” El asked.“You look happy.”

Max grinned. “We are. We really are. You know I’ve only had to dump his ass twice in the last nine months? I’m not saying he’s ‘the one’ but I think that’s a good sign.”

El was quiet. Max knew the whole _dump his ass_ topic could make her friend uncomfortable. After her break up with Mike last summer, El didn’t seem to have the heart for it.

Max sometimes felt guilty about that whole mess. She might have instigated it a bit. On the other hand, El had been letting Mike suffocate her and she needed to know that there were other people in the world. Other girls to be friends with, maybe even other guys if that’s what she wanted. So in that respect, Max figured it had been a good thing.

“He bought you gifts?” El asked.

“Both times.” She showed El her bracelet and her necklace. El cooed over the jewelry and Max smiled. “I’ll give the stalker credit, he knows how to grovel.” Then Max shifted gears. “You cut your hair,” she said. “It looks good. Why the change?”

“It’s for my apprenticeship,” El said. “I work around machines sometimes. They’re teaching me welding, too. They said it’s safer if my hair is short.”

“They’re teaching you _welding_?” Max wasn’t sure if she was shocked or impressed or both.

“Some ships are made of metal,” El told her.

“So they made you cut your hair?”

“No. They said it would be safer but I could tie it back instead. I decided to cut it.” El’s hand went nervously to her hair. “Do you like it?” The obvious unspoken question was, _Do you think Mike likes it?_

“It looks great,” Max told her. “_You_ look great.”

El really did look fabulous, Max thought. She’d bloomed in the nine months since Max saw her last. Not so much up top, where she’d probably always be small, but Max envied the way her long legs kept getting longer and more shapely. There was a new curvy flare to El’s hips and of course…

“Whatever you’re doing at that apprenticeship, El, you’re clearly not working your butt off,” Max teased. El was confused for a moment and then blinked in understanding. The brown-haired girl craned her neck, trying to see her own backside. Max laughed. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You knew what you were doing when you put on those Daisy Dukes.”

“I thought Mike would like them.” El said. “Are they okay?” She wrung her hands and asked in a very serious voice, “Do you think they make my butt look big?”

Max smirked. “I hate to break it to you, El, I think it’s your butt that makes your butt look big.”

Max mentally face-palmed when she saw the distress on El’s face. She kept forgetting that El’s… unusual… upbringing meant she had missed out on thirteen years of catty schoolgirl repartee. The girl took what people said at face value and deadly serious.

“I’m just teasing, El,” Max assured her. “You look great. You’ve got a very nice behind. And judging by the drooling and the slack-jawed expression, Mike thinks so too.”

Their gazes drifted over to Mike. The other boys were sitting around the picnic table locked in heated debate about some guy thing, probably a movie or a video game or something equally silly. Mike sat apart, resting his chin on his hand and gazing dreamily at El. He started when he realized they were looking at him. He sat up, blushing. His embarrassment didn’t stop him from giving a little wave while a big goofy grin spread across his face.

“Oh yeah,” Max said. “Wheeler’s clearly an ass man. Some guys, you can just tell.”

El looked at her friend, confused. “Ass man?”

Max smiled. “Never mind. You should ask Mike to explain that one to you someday. The important thing is that Mike clearly thinks you’re beautiful, El. He’s crazy about you. Besides, if he isn’t, the hell with him.For a girl like you, there’s always other fish in the sea.”

El was confused again. “Other fish in the sea?”

“Yeah, you know, that saying?”

“I know there’s fish in the sea. A lot of them. I’ve been reading about them. But what do fish…?”

“Um, it’s a metaphor. If the guy you’re with isn’t good enough, there’s plenty of other guys out there. You can always get another one.”

El shook her head. “I don’t want another one. I want Mike.” 

Max sighed. The girl really had it bad. Max couldn’t help putting an arm around her. “Don’t worry, sweetie. He wants you too.”

* * *

Mike burned with nervous energy. His leg was bouncing like a sewing machine needle. He couldn’t hide his relief when El and Max finally returned.

“Okay Mike, you can have her back,” Max teased. Mike sprang up from the picnic table and took El’s hand, both of them blushing and making quick eye contact and then looking away.

“I suggest the rest of us get out of here before we see something we can’t un-see,” Dustin said.

“Agreed,” said Will. “Come on, I’ll take you guys for a walk on the river, show you around.” 

The Party gathered around him except for Mike and El and…

“Steve, you coming?” Dustin asked.

“Go ahead without me, Henderson,” Steve replied. “I think I’m going to hang out here for a while.”

“What? Why?”

Steve nodded at an attractive young woman across the park. She had a tan and long blonde hair and a bikini top. She was making eyes at Steve and his car.

“Henderson, you don’t need a net when the fish just jump in the boat.” Steve got up from the picnic table and strolled over to the El Camino. He put on his best Tom Cruise smile and leaned against the car in a cocky stance. “I’ll be right here. See you guys when you get back.”

Dustin, Max and Lucas competed to see who could roll their eyes the hardest.

The Party set off down the riverwalk and Mike and El turned to go as well.

“Wheeler, don’t go too far,” Steve called.

“Why not?” Mike said, puzzled.

“Because every single time I’ve been around El, some kind of crazy supernatural terror invades the place. And your parents will kill me if I’m not looking after you little shits when it does.” 

“Steve, seriously…”

“I am serious.” Steve raised his sunglasses and gave the blonde girl a flirtatious smile. She got up from her bench and started walking toward him. “You don’t have to be where I can see you, Wheeler, but don’t go far.”

* * *

El led Mike through the park. She came here often and knew her way. She loved to sit by the river and watch the water whisper by and dream about taking Mike sailing on a boat she’d made with her own hands. For a long time it had just been a dream, but now she felt sure it would happen. Not today, but some day.

She led him into a small copse of dogwood trees. It was private, but close enough to respect Steve’s rule of “not too far.” El liked to come here sometimes when she wanted to shut the world out and be alone with her thoughts. It was her place and she wanted it to be Mike’s too. She faced him, holding his hands and suddenly feeling dreadfully shy. Then she looked into his eyes, those beautiful eyes, and her heart skipped a beat.

Mike looked lovely. He had gotten even taller in the six months he’d been away. He was smiling at her, that crooked, heart-breaking smile that made her want to kiss his plump lips again and again until he was breathless. Her eyes roved over his fine, angular features, delighting in his sharp cheekbones and chin. Mike had grown his hair longer, and it was wavy with a hint of curls. She itched to run her fingers through it.

He was wearing blue jeans and a loose white shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She thought it seemed a bit warm for a summer day - she’d expected his usual shorts and polo - but he looked very dashing. Maybe he’d worn it for her, to look handsome, as if he needed any help with that.

Then she looked into his eyes again and the love she saw made her ache.

”Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

They were quiet then, holding hands, shyly searching each other’s features.

“It’s been nine hundred and sixty-eight days, Mike,” she said at last. “Nine hundred and sixty-eight days that I’ve loved you.”

He nodded. “And tomorrow it will be nine hundred and sixty-nine days that I’ve loved you.”

She stepped closer to him. “I missed you, Mike.” 

“I missed you. After all this time, I almost—I can’t believe I’m actually here. That you’re here.”

She put her arms around his neck. “I’m here. I’ll prove it.” 

She kissed him.

Her heart raced as his amazing lips pressed against hers. She sucked on his plump lower lip and he groaned. For a moment he was passive, a willing victim of her hunger. Then he was kissing her back, hard, almost aggressive, and his lips opened hers. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and now it was her turn to groan, her head spinning.

She felt his lean, hard body pressed against her and she delighted that she could feel so much of him at once. She molded against him, wanting to make them one somehow, and she gripped his shoulders tightly. She realized she was digging her nails into him and she tried to relax her fingers, but it was so hard. Mike didn’t seem to mind anyway. 

Mike broke away from her mouth and she almost whimpered in disappointment, but the whimper turned into a pleased sigh as he peppered her jawline with little kisses and then made his way down her neck. Oh heavens, his lips were at her throbbing pulse, sucking at it gently, and then she did whimper when he flicked his tongue over it. She wrapped her hands in his glorious long hair and closed her eyes, losing herself as a tingling, liquid feeling built inside her and a pooling heat started in her pelvis.

It had been different before, when they kissed in her father’s cabin. She had loved kissing Mike back then, hugging him, enjoying the closeness and the affection. But it had never felt like this. 

In the last months before she moved away, and in December when Mike came to Bath, something had changed. She still loved to kiss Mike and touch him, she still loved the closeness, but now there seemed to be _more_, in every way. There seemed to be a _need_. Now when they kissed she felt an ache inside her, an emptiness, as if she was longing for something but she didn’t know what. 

In those last months in Hawkins, and last December in Maine, she felt like she was teetering on the edge of something. Whenever she and Mike finished one of their… sessions... every one of her nerves seemed to be hypersensitive. She was aware of every touch, every movement, even the rasp of her clothes against her skin. 

Sometimes it left her tense, frustrated somehow, and she would have this anxious energy that made her move and fidget and pace until it finally went away. The feelings when she kissed Mike were strange and intense and she didn’t understand them and sometimes they scared her. 

She sometimes wondered if she should talk to Joyce about them. But so many things about her were a burden to her family and she didn’t want to add another.

Now, here in the park, in the swirling wind and the dogwood trees, Mike’s fingers seemed to burn her as they touched the bare skin of her back, but it was a delicious burn that she wanted to feel again.

It was wonderful to be pressed against him. At her father’s cabin, they’d always stayed apart, sitting cross-legged on the bed, joined mainly at the lips, and that had been fun. But now her body touched him on its full length. Her mind jumped from point to point of contact, hips and pelvis and belly and her breasts against his chest. 

As their kisses deepened and followed one after another, her hands roamed, wanting to feel every part of him. She ran them from his shoulders to the hard, lean muscles on his slender arms, his tight waist, even the delicate outlines of his ribs. As her hands moved, Mike gasped and she swallowed his gasps into her mouth. She loved his excitement.

She was dimly aware of the hard outline of his wallet pressing against the soft skin of her belly or sometimes her hip. Always considerate, Mike kept trying to move his hips so that she wouldn’t feel it, but she thought that was silly. She knew boys kept their wallets in their front pocket and she didn’t mind. She shifted, forcing him to press full against her hips and pelvis. It was delicious and he gasped again and so did she. His tongue plundered her mouth, demanding, and the heat in her abdomen doubled. She felt her insides melting as his hands stroked up her ribs until they were on her shirt right below her breasts.

She pushed away a little, still kissing him, her fingers working the buttons at the top of his shirt. 

Mike broke the kiss. “El,” he said and there was something strange in his voice but she kept going. 

“El,” he said again, and she vaguely thought that it wasn’t a longing tone but somehow nervous. But her mind was like cotton candy now and she thought she must have misheard.

Then his fourth button was undone and her hand was inside his shirt, and there was the exhilirating feel of his bare skin. Mike kissed her again, and her mind scattered everywhere, to his lips, to his smooth skin under her fingers, to their hips pressed together, to the heat inside her. There was that other thing then, that strange liquid feeling between her legs that she’d started to feel sometimes when she was with Mike.

She pushed her hand further into Mike’s shirt and her fingers stroked his nipple. It was the first time she’d ever touched him there and her stomach did flip-flops. Mike moaned into her mouth and the dampness between her thighs intensified. 

Mike kissed her on the jaw and then in that desperately sensitive place right below her ear. He breathed her name and the longing in his voice sent her mind into cartwheels. The heat and the wetness and that feeling of aching need grew until it was so intense and frightening that she gasped. 

It was too much. She pushed away from him. She had to. She stumbled backward.

Mike looked at her in shock. He was panting and so was she.

“Sorry,” she gasped, looking at the ground. “Sorry.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “No, I’m sorry.” He pulled his shirt closed, his face ashen. 

“I just,” she said, “it’s just… we should take a break. For a while.”

“Yeah. A break,” he croaked. “Right. Sure.”

He forced a smile but it wasn’t that usual crooked smile thatshe loved so much. It was hurt and sad and it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. He looked… rejected. 

Her heart broke. She wanted to tell him so badly that it wasn’t his fault, it was hers, everything had just been so intense and overwhelming and it scared her. But Mike was the one with the pretty words and she didn’t know what to say to make it right.

* * *

Dustin thought the river walk was beautiful right up to the part where they found the dead fish. 

Will had been pointing out the sights – the city hall, the old wharf, the little stores where they sold antiques and knick knacks and souvenirs. They’d all been laughing and joking, teasing one another in the affectionate way of good friends.

Now and then Lucas would say something that made Max angry, then he’d recover and say something that made her melt, then the cycle would repeat. Their squabbling made Dustin think he might actually be lucky his girlfriend lived in Utah. It sure as hell made life easier, if not necessarily more fun.

Dustin was the first one to see the fish. It was when the Party stopped on the old weathered planks of the South Dock to watch the ships sail by.

It wasn’t a big fish, maybe three or four inches long, but Dustin couldn’t miss it, seeing as it was floating on the water rather than in it.

He didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t want to be the guy who ruined a gorgeous view by pointing out some dead thing. Then another fish floated past, and then another.

“Uh, guys,” he said. “Is that normal?”

They looked where he was pointing. 

“Ew, gross!” Max exclaimed.

“It doesn’t look normal to me,” Lucas said, “But I don’t know much about the water.” He glanced over at Will, who shook his head. Another five dead fish floated past. Then more. 

“Definitely not normal,” said Will.

“Look,” Dustin gasped, pointing again. Some of the fishes were popping and bubbling, like something was under their skin. Steam rose from the water.

That couldn’t be good.

“There’s some down here,” Lucas said, pointing to where a number of the scaly shapes had collected against the piers. “Give me that plank over there.”

“What are you going to do?” Max asked, clearly repulsed and just wanting to leave.

“I’m going to take a closer look,” he told her. She gagged as he scooped one of the fish out of the water with the end of the plank. 

The fish lay on the dock, boiling, almost writhing, and wisps of smoke rose as it burned in the bright sun. The thing jerked once, twice, and then it exploded into a gooey, pulpy mess.

“Oh ick!” Max shrieked, gagging. Will looked close to heaving too.

When Lucas spoke, his voice was grim. “That remind you guys of anything?”

“That thing,” Will breathed, hand over his mouth. “That thing that attacked us last year at Starcourt.”

“That’s right,” Dustin gasped. “The creature the Mind Flayer made out of bodies.”

“The thing that killed Billy,” Max said bitterly.

They all stared for a moment, quiet. There was no way this was anything but bad.

“It looks like it’s burning up in the sunlight,” Will said. “So are the ones out in the water. There’s no way you could… create… something from these fish.”

“That’s right,” Max said, grasping desperately at Will’s words. “That’s right, you couldn’t.” 

“But what happens at night?” Dustin said. “What if these aren’t the only fish?”

* * *

Grigori saw them through the trees, the boy and Dr. Brenner’s lab rat. They were half-hidden in a stand of dogwoods. They were shuffling around one another, eyes downcast, distressed about something.

Their friend, the older boy with the big car and the big hair, was absorbed in some young American hussy. She was flashing tan legs and cleavage and he was oblivious to anything else. 

Dr. Brenner said the girl had lost her powers. They were just two skinny teenagers. Grigori wouldn’t even need his gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s taking me longer to post chapters this time around. To make up for it (?) I’m making the chapters longer.
> 
> As for this chapter, puberty and hormones are tough enough to deal with when you know what’s going on. If you’ve spent your first thirteen years in a government lab or locked in Jim Hopper’s cabin and you don’t understand what’s happening to you, I imagine they could be kind of scary.
> 
> I won’t overplay the issue, because I want to move the story forward, but it seems like something El and Mike will need to find a way through.


	3. The Chief

**Bath, Maine – The Riverwalk**   
**Tuesday, July 1, 1986**

Things were going well for Steve Harrington and frankly it was about time.

He was underemployed. He had no prospects and no girlfriend. With two exceptions, his life was a shambles and someone owed him a win. 

Exception number one. Steve had found a friend who was the brother he’d never had. He now knew there was a guy out there who would have his back until the end of his days. Preppy and popular Steve Harrington hadn’t expected his best friend and blood brother would be a fifteen year old science nerd, but life was funny that way.

Exception number two. Last year, Steve finally met the girl of his dreams. She was funny and she was smart and she could be wickedly snarky, but underneath she was incredibly caring. Steve worked with her almost every day now at Family Video. They never stopped laughing, except for the times when they had deep conversations about life that Steve had never had with anyone else. 

They’d gone to the same school but never really crossed paths, because they’d come from different worlds. She was a band and theater geek. He was part of the in crowd. Once events put them together, they’d found to their great surprise that they really liked each other. Even with their different backgrounds they had so much in common.

The biggest thing they had in common was that they both liked girls. 

Steve was cool with it. People were who they were, and that’s who Robin was. It made it hard to bring his A-game with other girls though, because he knew the girl he really wanted. Steve hadn’t expected the girl of his dreams to be someone who could never, ever be anything but a friend, but life was funny that way.

However life was, it was pretty good today. 

The blonde girl’s name was Candi. Candi with an ‘i’. She liked Steve and she liked his car.

It was easy to tell. She was laughing at all of Steve’s jokes, even the lame ones. He deliberately made a few awful, corny ones, just to test, and she giggled uncontrollably like he was Richard Pryor. She hung on his every word, even when he started talking about the El Camino’s carburetor and its rack-and-pinion steering. Steve didn’t even know what rack-and-pinion steering was, or if the El Camino had it. Clearly Candi didn’t either, but she looked at him like she’d never been so fascinated in her life.

She was doing that clothing thing, too. It was the flirt reserved for the times when a girl was really into a guy, where she plucked at his shirt and tugged at his sleeve, all the while looking into his eyes with a come-hither smile.

Yeah, things were going well. So when two short hoots of a police klaxon sounded behind him, it made his heart sink.

Steve turned and groaned when he saw the big white Chevy Blazer with red and blue lights stopped next to his car. The Blazer was marked _Bath Police Department_ on the door and _Chief_ on the front tire guard. 

Steve groaned again when he saw the man who stepped out of the truck. It was the actual Bath chief of police, the man he had spoken to – _lied to_ – last December after the incident at Whateley House. The guy was big and burly, with a bristly mustache, and he could have been the separated-at-birth twin of Jim Hopper.

Steve’s interview last year with the chief hadn’t gone well. The man easily saw through Steve’s bullshit story. In hindsight, the Party should have sent Dustin to talk to the police. He was a much more accomplished liar, a past master at weaving creative webs of deception. Unfortunately he’d been in the hospital, so Steve got the duty. 

“Let me take care of this,” Steve began, turning to Candi, only to realize he was talking to her rapidly retreating back. In seconds she was lost amidst the people strolling the park.

Great.

“Well, well,” the chief said. “If it isn’t the Mountain Lion Kid.”

* * *

Grigori paused when he heard the klaxon. He wasn’t worried about the effete young American with the car and the hair, but police made things… complicated.

The big Russian wasn’t afraid of taking risks. It was part of his job. But he didn’t take foolish ones.

There was no rush. He would take the skinny black-haired boy some other time. Grigori walked on into the park, blending with the crowd until the policeman was left far behind.

* * *

“Good afternoon, sir,” Steve said with the best grace he could muster. “What can I do for you?”

The chief opened a citation book and started filling out a form. “Do you own this vehicle, son?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Car like that, I was expecting a Mexican.” Steve blinked in surprise, but the chief continued. “You can’t park here. This is a public thoroughfare and it needs to be clear.”

“Where does it say that?” Steve protested.

The chief pointed with his pen at a sign next to the curb, just feet away from the El Camino. The sign was clearly marked, _No Parking_. 

“Would you look at that?” Steve said. The chief went back to writing in his book. 

“Seriously, chief,” Steve said. “I really didn’t see the sign. I’ll move the car.”

“That’s right, son. You will.”

“Oh, come on! You’re seriously going to write me up for this? You’re the chief of police, don’t you have something better to do than hand out parking tickets?”

The chief smiled, ripped the citation from the book, and slapped it into Steve’s hand. “Consider it less a parking ticket and more of a… mountain lion disposal fee.” The chief’s smile turned grim. “I did some checking on you, kid. Found out you were mixed up in that Starcourt incident last year in Indiana. Now I don’t know what happened up at the Whateley place last December, but it sure as hell wasn’t a mountain lion.”

“Chief…” Steve began, but then he shut his mouth because there was really nothing to say.

“It seems like trouble follows you, son,” the chief said in a cold, quiet voice. “It better not have followed you to my town again. If I end up with another… mountain lion… roaming around, things are not going to end well for you.”

Steve didn’t say anything.

“I’m glad we understand each other.”The policeman tipped his hat. “Now you have a nice day, son, and enjoy your time in Bath.” He got into the Blazer. “Don’t forget to move your car.”

Steve watched the truck drive away. He chewed his lip for a while, then looked at the citation in his hand. In the blank for “Citing Officer” it read in clear, angular handwriting _Chief Timothy Leaper_.

For fuck’s sake.

* * *

Steve was surprised how easy it was to get Mike and El into the car.

When he went looking for them in the park, Steve figured he’d have to use the Heimlich maneuver to get Mike’s tongue out of El’s throat. Then he’d planned for fifteen minutes of bitching and moaning as the two horny teens whined about being apart for _six months_.

Instead, he found them sitting quietly in a stand of dogwoods, Mike on the grass and El ten feet away on a fallen log. They weren’t saying much, looking at the grass and the trees and the river and the flowers and pretty much everything except each other. Steve could have sworn that they were actually relieved when he showed up and told them it was time to go. 

When the two climbed into the back of the El Camino, Steve half expected them to launch into another make-out session. He’d even prepared a funny line about blocking the rear view mirror. Instead, Mike sat on one side of the bed and El sat on the other, and they didn’t have much to say to each other. As Steve drove the car slowly down the riverwalk, Mike and El let the sun shine in their faces and the wind whip in their hair and they quietly watched the world go by.

Wow, Steve thought. After six months apart, had Wheeler actually managed to fuck up his relationship with El in less than thirty minutes?

With that kind of talent, the kid might grow up to be Steve Harrington some day.

* * *

Steve was frustrated. He’d driven a long way down the river walk and Henderson and the Party were nowhere to be found. He ground his teeth as he left the park behind and drove into the industrial port that was the heart of Bath’s waterfront. This was definitely _not_ where the tourists went. In the rear-view mirror, he could see that Mike and El - who had resolutely avoided saying anything to each other - were looking around, confused.

Steve’s racing pulse returned to normal for a moment when he saw the Party up ahead, clustered on one of the industrial docks where the big tankers unloaded their cargo. Then relief was replaced by anger and Steve’s pulse started up again.

It wasn’t the kind of place you normally rolled in an El Camino. A few teamsters and stevedores cast a curious eye at the vehicle as he brought it to a stop next to the Party. When he got out, he was in quite a rage.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” he yelled. “This doesn’t look like the riverwalk! Shit, Byers, you get lost or something?”

Will was at a loss for words, surprised by Steve’s anger. Dustin held up placating hands. “Steve, look, I know we’re a little far away—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Henderson!” Steve snapped and Dustin took a step back, shocked. “Are you fucking serious? Do you remember what happened the last time we were in this town?” 

“Steve,” Dustin gasped. “Steve— I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to wander. We just— we found something.” 

Steve bit back another angry shout and took a deep breath. Mike and El climbed out of the back of the El Camino and gathered around him. 

“Okay,” Steve said, fighting to keep his voice steady, “what did you find?”

“Um.” Dustin paused, checking that Steve wasn’t about to launch into another rant. “We found this.”

He pointed to the dock. There was a black, ashy, oily streak on it. Steve’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

“Motor oil?” Steve snarled. “You came all the way out here and gave me a heart attack over motor oil?”

“It’s not motor oil,” Max snapped, getting in Steve’s face. “If you took a moment to listen, maybe you’d—”

Dustin moved to intervene as Lucas gently wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist and held her back.

“Max is right,” Dustin said quickly. “It’s not motor oil. It’s… it’s a fish.”

If anything, Steve’s eyebrows went higher. “A fish?” he asked. He wasn’t ranting, if only because the explanation was so utterly absurd it wasn’t worth a rant.

“Not so much a fish—” Dustin began and then Will spoke.

“It’s been infected by the Mind Flayer.”

A silence descended.

“Are you sure?” Mike finally asked.

“Remember that thing from last year?” Lucas said. “The one made out of bodies?”

“The Flesh Flayer,” Dustin clarified.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Well, yeah,” Dustin said, clearly surprised by the skeptical looks he was getting from Steve and Lucas. “It was the physical form of the Mind Flayer. Made out of flesh. The Flesh Flayer.”

“I was going to call it the Spider Monster,” Lucas said.

“That makes no sense, dude,” said Dustin.

“It had eight legs and a head like a spider,” Lucas snapped. “It was like the villain in that Stephen King novel. What was that book called? _It_?” 

“Flesh Flayer sounds so much better than Spider Monster.”

Mike stepped in. “Guys, not the_ point_. Are you saying that the Mind Flayer is back in the world and trying to create a new body?” He looked worriedly at El.

“Well, remember what the bodies looked like after the _Flesh Flayer_ got hold of them?” Lucas said, rolling his eyes at Dustin as he conceded the name. “That’s what these fish looked like, before the sun burned them away.”

“But is the Mind Flayer actually being back in the world and forming a new body? We don’t know, Mike,” Dustin said. “It doesn’t look good, though.”

“Then we need to find out,” Mike insisted. “Where did you find the fish? Was it just here?” 

Mike was starting to take charge.Steve wasn’t surprised. Mike had been quiet since they left the park, but now that a possible threat to El had materialized, the skinny teen was coming out of his mope and going into crisis mode.

“No,” Will said. “We started to see the fish in the park. We’ve been going upstream, trying to see where they’re coming from.” He pointed up the docks. “We actually went about ten more blocks that way, but we didn’t see any dead fish for a while and we came back. These were the last ones.”

“So they’re coming from somewhere around here?” Mike asked. “Then we need to search the area.”

“No,” El said softly. She clearly didn’t want to contradict Mike and her voice was gentle. The Party all turned to look at her.

“The currents here come from the north and the east.” She pointed across the harbor to where steep cliffs framed the far side. Water flowed into the Kennebec there from multiple channels. “They come out of that gap over there. See, on the far side? If the fish started appearing here, it means they’re floating across the harbor from there. That’s the way we need to go.”

The Party were quiet, digesting El’s words. As a rule she didn’t say much, so when she did speak, they paid attention.

“I have maps at home,” El said. “They show the currents. I can look at them tonight. Maybe I can find where the fish are coming from.”

“El was going to take us sailing tomorrow anyway,” Will said. “Mom and Jonathan rented a boat for us in the afternoon. We were going to go around the harbor, but maybe El can sail us through that gap instead.”

“Yes,” El agreed.

“That’s a great idea,” said Mike, quietly but firmly. There was a look on Mike’s face and Steve realized the lanky teen was… proud. Proud of his girlfriend. She’d found the way forward for them with her mind. Not with her superpowers, which were long gone, but with her skills and her knowledge.

Then the look faded and Steve saw something else on Mike’s face. It was the sad, defeated look of someone who wanted something and realized they could never have it. Steve sometimes had that look on his own face when he thought about Robin.

What happened to those kids in the fifteen minutes they were alone in the park, Steve wondered. How in the world did Wheeler screw things up so badly?

* * *

Steve drove them to the Byers’ house with Dustin riding shotgun. For a while it was quiet in the cab as the El Camino rolled through the streets.

“Sorry about snapping at you back there,” Steve said at last.

“It’s okay, Steve,” Dustin told him.

“It’s just... you know how it is. Wherever we go, all kinds of crazy shit happens to us. When you guys weren’t in the park, I just kind of—”

“Steve,” Dustin said. “It’s okay.” He shifted, shrugged awkwardly. “I’m glad you care. It means a lot.”

Steve nodded. They drove in companionable silence for a while. Then Steve said, “It doesn’t mean we’re married or anything.”

Dustin snorted. “You wish.”

They both chuckled. Dustin looked through the rear window of the El Camino. Mike and El were still on opposite sides of the car’s bed, not saying much and not looking at each other, just quietly watching the town go by.

“What happened with them?” he asked. “They’ve been really quiet and weird ever since you guys showed up at the dock.”

“I don’t know. Something happened while they were off in the park together, but hell if I know what it was.” Steve shrugged. “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

Dustin frowned. “Is that a saying?”

“It’s Shakespeare. _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_.” 

Dustin gave Steve a baffled look. “You read Shakespeare?”

“Henderson, trust me on this – chicks dig Shakespeare. Get that book out of the glove compartment.”

Curious, Dustin dug around until he found the book. It was a thick, oversized paperback, easily five hundred pages, and titled _Collected Works of William Shakespeare_.

“Check out Sonnet 18,” Steve said. 

Dustin scanned the table of contents, then flipped through the pages. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” 

“That’s the one. Drop that bad boy on Suzie the next time you talk to her. I guarantee she’ll be asking how soon you can get on a plane to Utah. That’ll go over even better than the scar.”

“Huh,” Dustin said, intrigued. He flipped more pages.

“Shit, dude, don’t dog-ear it!” Steve exclaimed.

“It’s already dog-eared!” Dustin protested. “Look at this thing! The binding’s all broken, the cover’s wrinkled…” He paused. “You’ve read this book a lot, haven’t you?” 

“What? No!” Steve shifted uncomfortably. “It was... it was like that when I got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Mike and Eleven POV is on the way, but I had to get my Steve on.


	4. The Maps

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**  
**Tuesday, July 1, 1986**

Mike Wheeler had expected this day to come. He just didn’t think it would be today.

The Byers house was about two miles from central Bath, down Route 1 along the river. Steve turned the El Camino into a long gravel driveway and the car rumbled toward the house. The place was small, quaint, like the Byers’ old home in Hawkins done up in New England dress. The Byers weren’t rich but they maintained the house as well as they could manage. Mike knew that Joyce Byers was proud of the home she provided for her boys and her adopted daughter. 

It wasn’t just the Byers’ house. It was El’s house.

Mike had imagined this moment a hundred times, riding up to El’s house in the hot sun, the glory of summer ahead of them and the cold separation of winter and spring just a distant memory. In his imagination the moment had always been happier.

Across the car’s bed, El was quiet. She looked at the trees passing slowly by. Sometimes she looked at her hands or rubbed idly at a scratch in the red paint on the El Camino’s side. She didn’t look at Mike. She seemed sad.

Well, who could blame her, he thought. It turned out the love of her life wasn’t all that much, was he?

Mike had been way too happy. The other shoe had to drop sometime.He’d always known that when it did, it would be a boot.

Steve pulled the car to a stop and set it in park. Mike scrambled out of the bed. He turned automatically – foolishly – to help El get out, but she’d already climbed over the other side. As she touched the ground, she looked in his direction and their eyes met.

She was so beautiful. Even now, in the blackness of his depression, he couldn’t feel anything but love. He smiled at her, ever so slightly, wanting to let her know that he got it, he understood. He wasn’t happy – he wanted to curl up under a blanket and shut out the world – but he understood.

She smiled at him too, ever so slightly, but then her eyes clouded and she looked away.

* * *

As the boys unloaded the bags, Joyce and Jonathan appeared at the front door. They came out to meet the Party, filled with smiles and hugs.Mike played along. He’d spent his life performing the role of a normal, happy kid even in the depths of despair.It was natural to do it again.

He hugged Joyce as she ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek. “You’re so tall,” she marveled. “You’re almost as tall as Jonathan.”

“I’ve been drinking milk,” he forced himself to joke, and she laughed and ruffled his hair again.

“Good to see you, Mike,” Jonathan said, shaking his hand firmly like he was a man and then pulling him into a one-armed hug.

“You too, Jonathan,” Mike said. He’d always liked Jonathan. He seemed like the perfect older brother, the kind that made Mike wish he had a brother.

They went into the living room and chatted and laughed for a while, making the small talk of good friends who hadn’t seen each other for a while. Joyce noticed that El was quiet. El didn’t have Mike’s years of experience pretending everything was all right.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Joyce asked, looking curiously from El to Mike.

“Yes,” El said. “Okay.” When Joyce’s curious expression didn’t fade, El said, “I’m a little tired.”

Joyce was clearly unconvinced but she let the matter drop. She’d been a teenage girl once too.

“We’ve got hot dogs and burgers ready for the grill,” Jonathan announced to a general round of cheers. “I’m going to get the fire going in…” he checked his watch, “twenty minutes! I hope you brought your appetites!” There were more cheers and Lucas and Will followed Jonathan into the kitchen, pleading with him to let them light the briquets.

“I’m pretty sweaty,” Mike told Joyce and the rest of the Party. “I’m going to take a shower before dinner.”

“I told you jeans and a long sleeve shirt would be way too hot, dude,” Dustin reminded him. “Seriously, what were you thinking?”

Mike didn’t answer but slung his backpack and set off for the guest bathroom. As he walked away, he heard Dustin say, “Honestly, he hasn’t worn shorts or a t-shirt all summer. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

* * *

Mike looked in the bathroom mirror.

_Frog face_.

He sighed. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. He looked in the mirror again. Every time he took his shirt off, he hoped it would magically be better. It never was.

There were good looking guys out there. Strong guys. Athletic guys. They had pecs and biceps and lats and traps and quads and calves. There were beefy guys like Schwarzenegger and Stallone, but you didn’t have to be a bodybuilder. You could just be normal-looking, fit, like Michael Biehn or Harrison Ford or Mel Gibson. That’s all Mike wanted. Was it such a big ask to be normal looking and fit?

Mike looked like he’d been released from a concentration camp. His heart sank as he surveyed his narrow shoulders and sunken bird chest. His arms were like pipe cleaners. He was half a head taller than his friend Dustin but he weighed less. It didn’t matter how much Mike ate, he couldn’t seem to put on a pound to save his life.

When they’d kissed in the park today, El had run her hands over him. He’d felt her little fingers tracing the outline of every rib. She’d felt _every single rib_ and it must have seemed to her that he hadn’t had a solid meal in months. It had been unbelievably arousing and at the same time one of the most humiliating things that had ever happened to him. What must she have thought? 

It was pretty clear what she’d thought. 

She’d managed to get over the problem of Mike’s prominent ribs. She’d started unbuttoning his shirt and he’d panicked, wanting to tell her to stop but unable to find the words. Then she’d put her hand inside his shirt, touching his pathetic excuse for a chest, and in moments she’d jerked away, disgusted.

She’d been nice about it of course. Mike knew she had a deep affection for him and she wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings. Instead she’d told him she needed a break and of course he’d agreed. What else could he have done?

He missed the days when they were twelve years old and the way their bodies looked hadn’t mattered. In the three years since, El had become sensuous and breathtakingly beautiful. It was a shame Mike hadn’t kept up.

He took a deep breath and turned to the side, craning his neck so he could see his back in the mirror. He sighed again. It was quite a bruise. It was a purple mass, with hints of brown and yellow, on the right side of his back about level with his elbow. That’s where Eric Griezman had landed the kidney punch five days ago.

Eric and Johnny Townsend had caught Mike alone near Mirkwood as he walked back from Dustin’s house. Eric and Johnny had learned over the course of the school year that bruises on the face and black eyes could get them in trouble with parents. But it was summer now, and no parents or teachers were around, and the bruise from a shot to the kidneys would be hidden under a shirt. 

Mike put up a fight, like he always did, but he didn’t have a chance one-on-one against either of them. Two-on-one was a disaster.

Mike pissed blood the rest of the day.

There wasn’t much he could do. Mike was brave of course. He’d used a shotgun to fight a demogorgon once, but it wasn’t like he could shoot Eric. He’d attacked Billy Hargrove with a pipe last year, but if he hit Johnny with a pipe they’d throw him in jail. So Mike had to go bare knuckle and hand to hand and that wasn’t even a contest. 

He couldn’t tell the adults. Most of them would just cluck that it was boys being boys. If Mike told his parents, there might be a few phone calls, Eric or Johnny might get grounded, and then Mike could look forward to an even fiercer beating for being a squealer. 

Besides, schoolboy honor said you fought your own battles.Running to parents or teachers was for cowards.There weren’t many good things Mike could say about himself, but he was no coward.

He wouldn’t tell Lucas or Dustin or Steve. He would never put his friends at risk if he could avoid it. So Mike fought, and he lost, and he took his beatings, and that’s the way it was.

It had been nice for a while in middle school, after El showed up. His tormenters then, Troy Walsh and James Dante, were terrified of her. They wouldn’t dare touch him and he’d had a couple of years of peace. Even today Troy and James left him alone, worried that El would come back from Maine, not realizing she’d lost her powers. But at Hawkins High, no one had heard of El or the things she did to people who picked on Mike Wheeler, and so hell was back in session.

Mike started the shower, letting the water run until it got hot. He unbuckled his jeans and pulled them off. He could only bear to look at himself for a moment, at his long spindly legs and knobby knees, his pale white skin like a dead fish and the ridiculous contrast of his dark pubic hair. He yanked his eyes away from the mirror. If he couldn’t look at himself, how had he ever thought El would want to?

He looked at his clothes piled on the floor of the bathroom. They were the armor that let him go outside and be seen by other people.They cloaked him from the sight of the world.

Mike stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over him, trying to wash himself away. He scrubbed off the sweat of the day, which wasn’t all that much. Then he sighed and wrapped his hand around himself and began to stroke. He’d been with his beautiful girlfriend all day and he was burning with tension and pathetic and he couldn’t take it anymore.

There was only one reason he’d wanted to take a shower.

Images of El played through his mind. Her face, her smile, her laugh and then other things.

His hand sped up and he whispered her name. In his imagination, the shower curtain pulled back and she was there. Naked and beautiful and longing for him. She’d step into the shower, he thought, and run her hands over his chest, not repulsed like earlier but excited. Mike didn’t know what El’s naked breasts looked like but he could imagine them from the way they pushed against her shirt. They would be shapely and sexy and slick with water. She would lean in to kiss him and her breasts would press against his chest. He could imagine the feel of her hard nipples against his skin.

He pulled urgently, feeling his tension reaching its peak. She’d be pressed against him like she was today. She’d put her lips against his ear and breathe his name. His hard length would be against the slick, soft skin of her belly, and not just her belly, but her short, soft, wet curls—

That did it. Mike shuddered, splattering all over the shower curtain. He bit down on his cheek to keep from crying out and tasted blood in his mouth. The pulsing seemed to go on forever until he felt drained and his bones turned to water. When it was done all he could do was lean his head against the wall and gasp as the spray from the shower coursed over him.

It had never been so good before. All it took was one afternoon with her and then the image of fantasy-El naked and wet in his shower and he had the best orgasm of his life.

The water spilled down his body and his breathing slowed, drifting back to normal. The depression floated back down on him, grey now rather than darkest black. It was still enough to make him feel hopeless as he washed the shower curtain clean. _I’m glad you enjoyed it_, said a voice in his mind. _That’s as close as you’re going to get to the real thing_.

* * *

Dinner was good. It was outside on the patio, where Jonathan was playing the role of grill master with Will as his assistant. Lucas was kibitzing. Max laughed as her boyfriend made teasing jokes about Jonathan’s burger flipping. 

Wearing jeans and a light grey shirt, Mike put on his pleasant public face and tried to enjoy the food. He even sat next to El and smiled softly at her and gave her a gentle, “Hi.” She smiled shyly and said “Hi” back to him. She looked at him occasionally as they ate, shifting awkwardly but not moving away. She was going to make the best of it while he was here, Mike thought, and he’d do the same. They would still be friends. They’d always be friends.

Maybe he’d get hit by a bus tomorrow, he thought. That would be nice. 

Eventually the meal was done and the teens were sprawled around the patio and the house, enjoying full bellies and a lazy evening. Will and Max and Lucas kept Joyce occupied on the patio.The rest of the Party gathered at the dining room table with Jonathan. Dustin gave him a run down of what they’d found on the river earlier in the day while El unrolled her maps.

“I don’t want Mom to know,” El told Jonathan.

“No,” he agreed. “Right. Things have been difficult for her. We don’t want to trouble her until we know something’s really going on.”

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Dustin said, but his voice wasn’t very convincing.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Jonathan agreed. He looked at the patio, his face lined with concern. “How is Will? Has he… sensed… anything?”

“No,” said Dustin. “We don’t know what to make of that. Maybe the Mind Flayer is far away, or maybe this is all some kind of false alarm.”

“It didn’t sound like a false alarm,” Steve muttered.

“El,” Mike said gently, “what did you find?” For a moment his eyes drifted to her exquisite face. She had the most amazing big brown eyes. He realized with an ache in his heart just how much he loved her cute little nose. She was perfect. He closed his eyes for a moment in pain, then shook all of the feelings away. This was serious. He needed to keep his mind on task.

Eleven glanced out at the patio, making sure her mother couldn’t hear, and then she started to explain, drawing her small, pretty fingers over the nautical charts.

“This is Bath,” she said, pointing. “Here is the harbor, where we were today. Here is where the fish were. See? The current runs north to south, so the fish were floating from here toward the park.”

“Right,” Dustin said.

“Here is where the current crosses the harbor,” she continued. “Do you see how it comes from this gap?” She pointed at a channel on the far side of harbor that came from the north and east.

“Yes,” said Steve. “That’s what you were saying today at the docks. That the fish must have come from that channel.”

“And this is where the channel comes from,” she said. Her finger traced along the map, trailing along it far to the north and east of Bath. By the scale on the map, it was at least ten miles of shore line. 

Mike looked at her fingers tracing the map and he couldn’t help remembering the feel of them a few hours ago gently stroking his chest. _Good lord_, he thought. _What’s wrong with you? Focus, you perverted loser_.

“What happens then?” Jonathan asked.

“The currents collect here at this outcrop from four different places,” El said, sadly. “If the fish are coming from further away than this, it will be hard to find them.”

“But they shouldn’t be that far away,” Dustin said suddenly. “Otherwise they would have burned up before they reached us.”

El shrugged. “Maybe.”

“So the source of the fish should be somewhere in this ten mile stretch, right?” Mike asked.

El’s eyes flickered to his and then she looked away. “It should be,” she murmured.

“So we go out there,” Mike told them all. “We keep our eyes open for dead fish and anything else unusual. And we watch the shore – make sure we keep an eye out for a Gate or demogorgons or anything.”

“You can take us on the boat tomorrow, right El?” Dustin asked.

“Yes,” she said.

They all nodded, comfortable that they had a plan. Mike smiled at El. “Thanks, El. This is great. This is… amazing. You’re amazing.”

She blushed and stared at her hands. _God_, he thought, _she can’t even look at me anymore_. “Thanks, Mike,” she whispered.

They all got up from the table, except for El, who started rolling up her maps. Mike wanted to stay, wanted to say something, but there didn’t seem to be any point. Eleven had finally come to her senses after three wonderful years. Mike’s love for her would last until time stopped and the universe ended, but he’d never been the kind of guy to overstay his welcome.


	5. The Sundae

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**  
**Tuesday, July 1, 1986**

Eleven finished rolling up her maps. Mike had walked away. She knew why, of course, but it didn’t break her heart any less.

That look of rejection on his face was burned into her brain. All day he’d been so sad and hurt. He’d tried to put a good face on it, the way he always did. He would smile at her now and then, trying to pretend everything was okay, but the smile never reached his eyes. 

El wanted to hug him and kiss him so badly. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. But all the while that she thought of him, the feelings were fluttering in her stomach. They’d been so intense in the park that they’d frightened her. They still frightened her. Something happened to her when she was near Mike and she wasn’t sure it was right. When she kissed him and touched him it was even worse.

El didn’t talk about her problems. Growing up in a laboratory, you learned to solve your problems alone.

El struggled with the idea that you could make your problems lighter by sharing them with someone else. She didn’t have a friend until she was twelve years old. Before that she hadn’t even known what a friend was. It made it hard to talk to people.

So when the feelings confused her and scared her, she did what she always did. She shut down. She withdrew and ran away into her own head. It was breaking her into a million pieces to see what that was doing to Mike, but she didn’t know what else to do.

She put the maps away and joined the Party in the living room. They were starting a movie as she walked in. The title scrolled across the screen, _Raiders of the Lost Ark_. She’d seen it before of course.It was one of Mike’s favorites and she liked it too. The hero was a good man, handsome, but he had a temper and he beat up bad people sometimes. He reminded her of her father.

El sat down to watch, keeping her distance from Mike. She was worried about getting tingly and damp and distracted again. That seemed to happen when she got too close to him. 

Max gave her a funny look. The red-haired girl nodded her head at Mike and then made a confused gesture that clearly said, _What’s going on?_

El shook her head. She couldn’t deal with this right now. She needed to think. She looked blankly at the screen, seeing but not seeing as Indy ran away from natives and fought Nazis and chased speeding trucks across the desert.

Right around the time Indy and Marion boarded the pirate ship, Joyce yawned and stretched and told the teenagers good night. Mike waited a while, giving her time to go to sleep, and then he paused the movie as Indy climbed aboard a Nazi submarine.

“What are you doing, Mike?” Dustin protested. “The wrath of God is about to come down on some Nazi ass!”

“Their faces are going to melt,” Lucas agreed. “This is the best part!”

“Guys, we’ll get there,” Mike assured them. “But we need to talk.”

“It can’t wait until tomorrow?” Lucas grumbled.

“No!” Mike said. El knew how annoyed Mike could get when the Party got stubborn and didn’t see things his way. Lucas and Dustin knew it too, and so they gave up with as much grace as they could muster.

“Listen,” Mike continued, “I’ve been thinking – if the Mind Flayer is trying to form another body, that has to mean a Gate is open. There’s only one that we know of, back in Hawkins at the Laboratory. Someone needs to go check it out.”

“We don’t know that a Gate is open,” Dustin said. “Last December, Dart and that demogorgon managed to survive without access to a Gate. Remember? It only opened long enough for them to come through and then it closed itself.”

“I know,” Mike said. “I thought about that. Look, maybe you’re right. But I think creating a Flesh Flayer has to be more difficult. I mean, orders of magnitude difficult. No, I think the Gate has opened – but we need to find out for sure.”

“So where are you going with this, Wheeler?” asked Steve. El could see him casting his eye at the VCR. He clearly wanted to see the Nazis’ faces melt too.

“Someone has to go check out the Lab,” Mike said. “The third sub-basement. Maybe Robin can go?”

“No!” Steve said sharply, then he quickly put his hand over his mouth. He looked down the hallway toward Joyce’s bedroom, worried he might have awakened her. After a moment, he hissed, “No.No way.” Mike started to open his mouth again but Steve cut him off. “Not a chance in hell, Wheeler. If you think I’m going to let someone send Robin down to the Gate room, you are out of your goddamn mind.”

“Steve…” Mike began.

“No! Like you’d let El go?”

Mike’s eyes flicked quickly to El. He blushed. Then he coughed. “I, uh, don’t _let_ El do anything. But, uh, point taken.” He rubbed at his brow. “Someone’s got to check it out, though. If the Gate is open, we’re in danger.” He looked at Eleven as he spoke. It was clear who _we_ was.

El thought her heart was going to burst. Mike was _so_ protective and possessive of her, and Max always told her that was bad, but the fact was it made El giddy. Whether she had her powers or not, Mike always guarded her with a lion’s fury. It made her feel safe and protected and _cherished_.

_I can’t do this_, she thought suddenly. _I have to fix this. I can’t shut him out again_. 

She turned to Max and gave her friend a look that said, _We have to talk_.

The glare on Max’s face took El aback. It very clearly meant, _Goddamn right we do_.

“What about Nancy?” Lucas asked.

“No!” said Jonathan and Steve at the same time. They exchanged glances, surprised, and then Steve shrugged sheepishly. 

“Sorry,” Steve said, “old habit.” Jonathan waved it away. He and Steve had called a truce on Nancy long ago. 

“Dr. Owens,” Will murmured.

“What?” asked Dustin.

“Dr. Owens,” Will repeated, louder.

Mike’s eyes widened. “That’s a good call.”

“He’s that scientist guy,” Steve said, rummaging through his memory.

“The one who took over Hawkins lab,” said Will. 

“We thought he was a total douche bag at first,” Mike said. “But he turned out pretty cool.”

“Do you think he might help?” asked Dustin.

“Not only would he help,” Jonathan said. He went into the kitchen and pulled a business card from underneath a refrigerator magnet. “Mom’s got his number.” 

* * *

Once the Ark of the Covenant was stored away in a government warehouse and the credits started to roll, the Party broke apart and got ready for bed. As the boys drifted off to Will and Jonathan’s rooms and Steve took the couch, Max grabbed El by the arm. 

“We are talking,” Max said sternly. “About you and Mike. Right now.”

“Okay,” said El, startled but clearly relieved.

Max was a little surprised. El never wanted to talk about her and Mike. To be fair, El never really talked about anything. She was a great listener though. She would sit quietly as Max rambled on about boys or skateboarding or comic books or problems at home for hours.

Max pulled El into their bedroom. “Sit,” Max ordered, pointing at the bed with its pink and white sheets. El did as she was told and Max joined her, facing her, both of them sitting cross-legged. El waited expectantly, a bundle of nerves and anxious brown eyes. “Okay,” Max said. “Talk.”

Then Max listened for ten long minutes as El basically went crazy.

In the eighteen months that Max had known her, El never had very much to say. She was a girl of few words. That’s apparently because she’d saved all her words up so she could say them _right now_.

Max had a hard time making out what was troubling El. A few themes seemed to dominate the girl’s outpouring of words and emotions and thoughts. There was something about Mike, and kissing, and heat. There was hugging and closeness. Something about liquid and pooling and melting. 

El kept jumping around in time between today and last December and last year in Hawkins and the day when she first met Mike. It was all rather disconnected. El had some kind of feeling in her stomach and then her mind was all foggy and she couldn’t think and she kept getting distracted. There was some babbling about Mike’s chest and something about his tongue and licking the shell of his ear.

Things got a little hard to follow at that point, as if they weren’t already, with a lot of talk about tingling and butterflies and feeling empty and aching. There apparently had been burning fingers on El’s skin. El had some kind of tension, and it kept building, and she didn’t know where it was going or how to make it stop or how to make it go away. She liked it and she hated it, all at once.

Max blinked in shock. It was suddenly clear. El – sweet, lovely, naive, innocent El – was _horny_. Mike Wheeler was making El horny and it was driving the girl crazy.

Max rewound the tape in her mind. She’d skipped over the most amazing part. _Mike Wheeler_ was making El horny. 

Well, there was no accounting for taste. 

Mike was cute enough, in a dorky way, Max supposed. She had to admit he had pretty eyes. He was also tall and he’d started to grow some cool rock star hair instead of that awful nerdy bowl cut. But the boy could stand to eat a steak or two. He was so skinny you got the feeling a strong breeze would knock him over. Still, some girls liked that lean, rangy look. El certainly had it bad for Mike for as long as Max had known her.

El was starting to wind down, Max realized, her speech patterns returning to normal, but the girl wasn’t finished quite yet.

“And there’s this other thing…” El waved her hands nervously. She took a deep breath. “It happened today when Mike and I kissed. It’s happened sometimes before, a little bit, but it was really strong today. It’s…” She hesitated. “Max, today, when Mike and I kissed, I got _damp_. Down there.” She slowly and deliberately looked down at her lap, then looked back up at Max to make sure her friend understood.

It was all too much. El was so cute. Max had to fight not to giggle at her friend’s serious expression. When Max spoke her voice was gentle. “Gee, El, it was a real struggle to crack your secret code there, but I think I understand what you’re saying.”

“And it’s wasn’t pee, Max,” El rushed to clarify. “It’s not that I peed myself. And it’s not because it’s my – my _time_, either.” El swallowed, twisting her hands anxiously. Max realized in shock that El wasn’t just nervous, she was scared. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me, Max? Do you think I should go to a doctor? I don’t like doctors.”

A wave of sympathy washed over Max and she hugged her friend. El was startled but hugged Max back hard. “Oh El,” Max said, rubbing a reassuring hand up and down her friend’s back, “there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. It’s completely normal. You don’t have to go to a doctor.”

Max sometimes forgot how new the world was to her friend. El had a slender, long-legged beauty that gave her an air of poise and maturity. But underneath that outward appearance, she was incredibly innocent. Max reminded herself that El spent the first twelve years of her life in a laboratory and the next year hidden away in Hopper’s cabin, so realistically the girl had all of two years of a normal life. Despite her physical maturity, El basically had the social knowledge and experience of a second grader.

Max leaned back from the hug. El still looked nervous but the beginnings of a relieved smile were forming on her face. “It’s normal?” El asked.

“Normal,” Max assured her. “El, when you get, um… damp… like that, it just means you’re aroused.”

“Aroused?” El looked confused.

Max gave a little sigh. Of course El wouldn’t know about arousal either. This was awkward. When Max pulled El aside to talk about Mike, this certainly wasn’t the conversation she was expecting. 

“Um, El, do you know about… _sex_?” Max almost winced as she asked the question.

“Oh,” said El. “Yes. Of course.”

Max frowned. There was an unusual amount of certainty in El’s voice. “Really? What, um… what do you know about it?”

El smiled. “They never told you about it, Max? I can try to teach you, if you want.” The girl clearly wanted to be helpful, and Max thought she heard a slight note of pride in El’s voice that she might know something that Max didn’t.

“Um, that’s okay El… I know about it. I’m just curious what you know.”

“Oh. Okay.” El cleared her throat, as if preparing to give a rehearsed speech. “Well, boys, like Mike and Lucas, have a penis. Girls,” she pointed between her and Max to ensure there was no confusion, “have a vagina. If Mike and I want to…” she looked up, searching for the word, “reproduce… we put them together and do sex, and that will give me a baby. If we want to do sex and not have a baby, Mike should wear a condom. Oh, and in class they had us practice how to put a condom on using a banana.” El nodded, pleased with her explanation of the mysteries of human sexuality.

Then El hesitated. She looked around as if making sure no one else could hear, and leaned closer to Max. “They said sometimes people like to do sex without having a baby because it can be fun and feel good,” she said softly, “but it didn’t seem like much fun to me, Max. The banana was just weird and the diagrams they showed us looked kind of strange.”

Max groaned inside. Poor El. It was clear Max’s naive friend was just repeating words and she had no idea what any of it meant.

This was going to be really awkward.

“So, uh, I guess that’s a pretty good... high-level... overview of sex,” Max said.

El blinked in surprise. “There’s more?”

“Um… maybe a little bit more. You know. Details and stuff.”

El leaned forward, curious. Max checked the bedside clock. It was almost 10.30 pm.What the hell, it was summer break. They could sleep in tomorrow morning.

“So, okay…” Max began.

* * *

Eleven lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Max snored softly beside her. The room was dark and the clock showed one in the morning. There was no way El could sleep.

Her mind was awash with Max’s words. They swirled around in her head - pussies and cocks and erections and getting wet and orgasms and coming. It had been a lot to take in and El wasn’t sure she’d really followed it all. It was confusing but she thought she understood a few things better now.

She knew that the things she was feeling were normal. There was nothing wrong with her. Kissing and touching and being close to someone she liked could make her feel certain ways and that was okay.

She also knew that the tension she felt inside her, that always seemed like it was building to something, actually _was_ building to something. If it got there, Max told her, it could be very nice and feel very good. 

Mike might be able to help her get there, Max said, but only if he wasn’t a doofus. El asked how she would know if Mike was a doofus and Max just said that was up to Mike.

Max hinted that El could take care of the tension by herself, but El was already kind of lost by that point and didn’t understand how that might work. Maybe she’d ask again some time. 

One thing Max was adamant about - sex was special and El should only do it with someone she cared about. “Like Mike?” El asked and Max shrugged. “Maybe. If you think so. If you think he’s the right guy.”

Max was also adamant that El never let anyone, not even Mike, touch her anywhere that made her uncomfortable. El should never let anyone pressure her into doing something she felt wrong about or didn’t want to do. El should set her limits, Max said, and Mike or whoever she was with needed to respect them. 

“And I should respect Mike’s limits too, right?” El asked.

Max frowned, confused. “What?”

“Mike. If there’s someplace he doesn’t want to be touched or something he doesn’t want to do, I should respect that, right?”

Max smiled. “Oh, sweetie. That _never_ happens. Boys always want to do as much as they can, as fast as they can. You need to worry about your limits; Mike will be fine.”

“Okay,” El said.

El stared at the ceiling in the dark.She tossed restlessly in bed.There was no way she’d be able to sleep right now.Maybe she’d get a snack.Ice cream would be nice.

Everything will be okay, El told herself. Everything was going to be all right. Wasn’t it?

_I hope Mike forgives me.I think I hurt him._

* * *

Mike sat at the Byers’ kitchen table in his Van Halen t-shirt and his pajama bottoms. It was 1.15 in the morning. There was no one but him and this chocolate caramel sundae and Steve Harrington’s snores drifting in from the living room.

Those first bites of the sundae were just what he needed. When you were depressed and you had girl trouble and you were six years away from being legal to drink, ice cream was the drug of choice. 

Mike guessed that all those blues legends - the ones whose women had done them wrong - didn’t drown their sorrows in caramel with extra jimmies and three maraschino cherries on top. But Mike would take it where he could get it.

He kept working through the sundae, wondering if he might actually put on a pound or two if he ate three of these in a row. Then he froze, the spoon half way from the dish to his mouth.

El stood in the kitchen door.

She was wearing a little white nightshirt that fell just past her hips. It said _Princess_ on the front in light blue letters.Her hair was mussed from the bed. Her deep brown eyes sparkled and her lips were pink and pillowy.Her long, slender legs went from the bottom of the nightshirt all the way to the floor and that was a long way.

Mike felt the spoon start to tremble in his traitorous hand. He should get up, he thought, find some excuse to leave the kitchen and go back to his bedroom. But El was standing in the only exit, and if he got up and left now, it would be obvious he was doing it just to get away from her.

“El,” he forced himself to say.

“Mike,” she whispered.

She padded into the kitchen on her bare feet and stood in front of the table. Mike stood up, putting the spoon down and feeling awkward and foolish.

“What are you doing up?” he asked finally.

El crossed the distance between them and before Mike knew it, she’d thrown her arms around him and hugged him tightly against her. He stiffened, surprised, and then he melted, wrapping his arms around her too. Her fragile little angel’s body molded against him and Mike felt whole.

“El?” he asked gently. 

One of her little hands reached up and wrapped in his hair. The other trailed to the nape of his neck and she pulled him down to her and she kissed him. 

It was _so_ good. It was El. It was everything.

He kissed her for a long time.

They broke the kiss and he stared into her eyes and she stared into his.

“Mike,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” he said, automatically, “Don’t be—"

“Mike,” she insisted, “_I’m sorry_. I didn’t mean to be… I’m sorry I was mean to you today.”

“You weren’t, El,” he started and she cut him off again. 

“I _was_. I’m sorry. I made you hurt. I don’t want you to hurt, Mike.” She shrugged helplessly, tears forming in her eyes. “I was confused. I needed some time. But I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The tears spilled from her eyes then, painting her cheeks. “I love you, Mike.Please.When I get quiet sometimes, please don’t forget that I love you.” 

“I love you,” was all he could say, and then they were kissing again and for a moment Mike’s world was nothing but good.

The kiss wasn’t an invitation. It was too late in the evening, they were both too tired, and Steve Harrington was just yards away on the couch, snoring. It wasn’t an invitation.But it was a promise.

When they broke the kiss again, Mike smiled at her and she smiled back. They were both relieved, and happy, and it was pure joy just knowing the other was around.

“You’re having ice cream,” El murmured. 

“What else would people be doing at one in the morning?” Mike asked, and his voice was teasing and self-mocking all at once.

“What else?” El grinned. “I couldn’t sleep. I would love ice cream.” She gestured at the table. “Can I sit with you?” 

“Good God, yes,” he said fervently and she giggled at his enthusiasm. “The ice cream’s in the freezer and there’s some caramel sauce on the counter,” he told her.

“Okay,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll be right there.”

Mike sat again at the kitchen table, settling in while El opened the freezer door and reached for the ice cream.

Mike’s heart stopped.

The freezer was a top door model and the ice cream was far in the back. The cartons weren’t hard to reach for someone of Mike’s height. El had to stand on her tiptoes and stretch as far as she could. 

El’s pretty white nightshirt wasn’t very long. As she stretched, it rode up.It rode up pretty high.

Mike had sometimes – who was he kidding – Mike had _frequently_ wondered what El’s panties looked like. It turned out they were black and lacy and pretty and sexy. They were perfect. They sat low on her hips, and they were snug and clinging.

Mike’s throat tightened.The way they were cut high in the back, the way they rode up as she moved, El’s panties were positively… cheeky.

Mike stared, almost in awe, and the blood in his head packed its suitcases and set off for parts south. El rummaged through the freezer, blissfully unaware that Mike was struggling to breathe. He couldn’t decide whether to thank God, pound his head against the table, or just pass out. Maybe he could do all three at once?

Then a disgusted voice in his mind said, _I’ve got an idea, how about you try being a gentleman for once and take your eyes off her ass?_

Seriously, what was wrong with him?El was the love of his life. She was brave and smart and sweet and kind, and here he was treating her like nothing but a set of body parts, something for his lustful young mind to ogle. He was treating her like a sex object instead of the wonderful human being she was.

He wanted to punch himself. Hell, if any other guy was ogling El the way Mike was right now, he’d kick the guy’s ass. Why should there be a different standard just because it was him doing the ogling?

_That’s exactly my point_, the voice told him.

_Now wait a minute_, a second voice said. _I do love and respect El. I think everything about her is amazing. And in addition to being brave and smart and sweet and kind, she also happens to be the most beautiful girl in the entire world._

_I’m fifteen years old, my hormones are going crazy, and everything I see makes me think about sex. So would you give me a fricking break and let me multi-task here? I am actually capable of loving my girlfriend’s heart and mind and soul while also loving the way her behind looks in those panties._

The first voice was quiet for a moment. _Okay_, it finally said. _Granted. _The voice paused._ That is quite an ass she’s got there, isn’t it?_

Great. Mike was officially crazy. He had _two_ voices in his head and they were both perverts.

El turned toward him then, smiling, cartons of chocolate and vanilla and strawberry in her hands. Mike smiled back, desperately trying to force his mind away from the vision he’d just witnessed and onto just about anything else. Baseball stats, tomorrow’s weather, Steve Harrington’s hair care regimen. But the memory of El’s gorgeous behind wrapped in those lacy black panties was too much and nothing was working.

Mike pushed his chair as far under the kitchen table as it would go. He definitely didn’t want to explain the enormous tent he was pitching in his pajama bottoms.

Well, not an _enormous_ tent. He wasn’t abnormally large or anything. It was a respectable, good-sized tent. Mike wasn’t a fan of walking around the boy’s locker room naked, but that’s because he was bone skinny, not because there were any problems in _that_ department.

Good lord, why was we he thinking about this?Focus, you dumbass.

El pulled a dish from the cabinets and started assembling a banana split. She peeled the banana, grabbed a knife, and then hesitated. She looked over at Mike and then blushed an extraordinary shade of red.

“I’m, um, I’m not going to slice this banana,” she stammered to Mike. “I’ll just put the whole thing on the side, like this.” She did just that and then started loading up her dish with scoops of chocolate, vanilla and strawberry ice cream. She looked at the banana and then at Mike and then she blushed again. Mike wanted to ask about it, but it seemed to be a private thing so he let it be.

El joined him at the table, setting her dish next to his sundae. She looked at the kitchen clock. “It’s tomorrow, Mike,” she said. “I’ve loved you for nine hundred and sixty nine days now.”

His heart clenched. Something had happened today, something that terrified him and made him think it was all over. But it wasn’t. After nine hundred and sixty nine days, El was still with him and as far as he could tell she was happy with that.

One day the other shoe would drop. He knew that. But apparently not today.

“Me too, El,” he said. “I’ve loved you for nine hundred and sixty nine days. And tomorrow it will be nine hundred and seventy.”

They leaned in and kissed. It wasn’t passionate or hungry. It was sweet and filled with love.

They turned to their ice cream, eating in companionable silence. Occasionally they’d make eye contact and blush. Now and then Mike would grab El’s free hand and bring it to his mouth and kiss it and she would giggle.

After a while El got a thoughtful look on her face, as if she’d remembered something.

“Mike,” she asked, “what’s an ass man?”

Mike choked on his sundae.


	6. The Skateboard

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

Jonathan was a good cook and Dustin had been looking forward to this breakfast for a while.

It wasn’t that Dustin’s mother was a bad cook. She did what she could to look after her boy. As a single mom she just didn’t have a lot of time for food, so she put speed and efficiency over flavor.

Dustin didn’t mind. He loved his mother and he appreciated the sacrifices she made for their little family. It was also nice that his mother was incredibly trusting of her only child, to the point that “gullible” didn’t do the situation justice. It was a useful quality in a parent, especially when Dustin was busy spying on the Russians or fighting supernatural horrors from another dimension.

One of these days, Dustin was going to write his memoirs and they were going to file them in the Fiction section. No one would _believe_ the shit he’d done before he was even fifteen years old. 

That was something for another day. Today, Dustin was going to dig into a plateful of blueberry pancakes, eggs, bacon, spicy potatoes and biscuits. The Byers didn’t have much money but Jonathan could take simple, inexpensive fare and put out a real spread.

The Byers’ dining room table groaned under dishes of home-made wonder. There was also a stack of microwaved Eggos and a can of whipped cream. That was for El. 

Dustin frowned as he looked around the table. Everyone was tucking into the meal, but El was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Mike.

Max had come to the table late, looking a bit tired. When asked where El was, she just shrugged. Will and Dustin and Lucas exchanged worried looks. 

“Do you think they’re still not speaking?” Will asked softly. 

“Are they still trying to avoid each other?” Dustin wondered.

“Oh man,” Lucas groused, “if they’re going to be like this the whole two weeks, this holiday is going to _suck_. Mike will be so mopey and depressed I’ll have to kill myself… or him.”

Just then Mike came bounding into the dining room. He was wearing his usual jeans and white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Dustin had started to think of it as Mike’s uniform. The only variation allowed was the color of the shirt.

Something was wrong though. Mike was _smiling_. Mike seemed to be… _happy_.

The black-haired boy grabbed a chair, his fingers tapping a little drumbeat on the table. “Hey guys, good morning,” he said in an awfully chipper voice. “The food smells great.” He craned his neck, looking around the table. El wasn’t there, of course. Mike looked down the hall, fingers still tapping.

“Uh… you going to eat something?” Lucas asked, clearly as baffled by Mike’s mood as Dustin was.

“Maybe a little,” Mike shrugged. “I’m not that hungry this morning.”

“Well, I think someone had a little too much ice cream last night,” Joyce teased and Mike blushed.

Then El appeared in the hallway and a big crooked smile broke across Mike’s face.

El looked pretty, Dustin thought. He preferred his women with more meat on their bones, like his Suzie, but El could make the skinny waif look work. She wore a white linen shirt and jean shorts this morning with a pair of little blue boat shoes on her feet. She’d parted her short hair on the side. When she saw Mike her face lit up and then she smiled bashfully.

Mike stood up as she approached the table.

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked.

“A lady’s arrived, you should stand up,” Mike told him. “Be a gentleman.”

“Mike, what the f—” Lucas began, then turned it into a cough when he remembered Joyce was there. 

Max looked at Mike like he’d grown a second head.

Mike and El only had eyes for each other, then El seemed to realize everyone else was there. “Good morning,” she said shyly, sitting at the table next to Mike. Once she was seated, Mike sat too. Mike took both of El’s hands in his. She looked surprised but didn’t pull them away. The two of them exchanged smiles and wistful glances, ignoring the food piled on the table.

Steve leaned over and tapped Mike on the shoulder. “Wheeler,” he murmured, “what the hell are you doing?” 

“What?” Mike said. “Nothing.” He looked at El’s hands in his.Then he noticed that the entire table was staring. El was gazing at him with big, adoring eyes. Everyone else was looking at him like he’d gone insane. 

“Sorry,” Mike said, shrugging awkwardly. “It’s just I haven’t seen El in _six mo_—”

“Eight hours,” Max interrupted, thoroughly annoyed.

Mike swallowed the rest of his words. Suitably rebuked, he and El started eating quietly. Their good behavior didn’t last long.

After a few minutes, Mike took Eleven’s plate and served her some more Eggos, then kissed her hand when he gave the plate back. She giggled, delighted. She returned the favor by putting a pancake on Mike’s plate, then carefully drawing a whipped cream smiley face on it and decorating it with maple syrup hair. Mike laughed. 

Dustin was rapidly losing his appetite.

He kept his eyes away from them, focusing desperately on his conversation with Will about the coming weekend’s D&D campaign. But eventually he turned for another helping of spicy potatoes and immediately face-palmed. The young couple were eskimo kissing now, Mike rubbing his rather prodigious beak against El’s pert little nose while she toyed with a lock of his long hair. 

“I’m so glad they worked through their issues,” Lucas said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Max’s voice was an absolute monotone. “Yeah. Thank God they’re a couple again.”

* * *

After breakfast, the Party gathered in the living room while Joyce got ready for work.

“Did anyone call Dr. Owens?” Dustin asked.

“I called his office,” Jonathan said. “They told me he’s traveling but they could forward a message. I gave them my name and told them to ask Dr. Owens what the weather was like in sub-basement three.” 

Dustin nodded at Jonathan’s spycraft. “That’s good. Vague and mysterious, but he should know what it means.” 

“What should we do while we wait for him to get back to us?” Lucas asked.

“Well, the boat rental isn’t until this afternoon,” Jonathan said. “I don’t want Mom getting worried, so we have to act like everything’s normal until then.”

“What did you have in mind?” Steve asked.

“Fairwinds Park isn’t far,” ventured Will. “We could play some games and maybe take turns on Max’s skateboard. The park has a bunch of stairs and little walls you can trick off.” Max perked up, intrigued by the idea. 

“What games could we play?” Steve wondered. “Kill the Carrier?”

“My football has a leak,” Jonathan said, “it deflates like ten minutes after you pump it up. So I think that’s out.” 

“It doesn’t have to be a football,” Lucas said.“We could always use a tennis ball or something.” 

“What if the girls want to play?” Dustin asked. That gave the boys pause. None of them relished the prospect of hitting Eleven with a bone-crunching tackle. Firstly, that would just suck, and secondly, Mike would probably try to kill whoever did it. 

“Good point,” Steve said. “Five Hundred?” 

“That’s more like it,” said Dustin.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Fairwinds Park**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

El smiled as the hot sun and the cool breeze washed over her. She loved the park. Even more, she loved being at the park with Mike. 

Max was down the hill, riding her skateboard and tricking off the stairs at the park entrance. El sat in the grass, laughing and cheering as the boys played Five Hundred in front of her. She’d played a few rounds with them, but she wanted to rest for a little bit and catch her breath. She also wanted to look at Mike. She loved being able to see him when he wasn’t aware she was watching. She loved looking at him anytime, but when he was at play he was so unguarded and open. He laughed freely and that big full-lipped smile she loved so much was always on his face.

Five Hundred was a silly game but it was fun. One person, right now Steve Harrington, was the Thrower. His job was to throw the ball out and high into the air. Everyone else, all the boys, gathered around him and then chased after the ball when he threw it, trying to catch it. Catching it on the fly was worth 100 points. You got fewer points if you caught it on the bounce. Whoever got to five hundred points first was the winner and became the new Thrower.

El didn’t really understand the point of the whole thing. Being raised in the Lab, she wasn’t very familiar with games. It did seem like a good way to have fun. She certainly laughed and squealed and shrieked when she played. She had a wonderful time. Maybe that was the point. Maybe having fun was enough.

El liked to watch the boys play. She loved all of them. She didn’t love them the way she loved Mike, of course, but Hopper and Joyce had taught her that there were a lot of ways to love people. She felt such deep affection for all of these young men, who made it a part of their lives to protect her and keep her safe and fight the Upside Down beside her.

El had watched a lot of National Geographic specials during her enforced solitude at her father’s cabin. With that frame of reference, the boys reminded her of young lions when they played. They were aggressive, jostling and shoving each other, testing their strength and their speed. But at the end they were all on the same side. They cheered and hugged and high-fived when someone made a good catch. They knocked each other down and then held out a hand, laughing, to help each other up.

El’s friend Max was a bit down on boys in general. She tended to roll her eyes when they played silly games and rough-housed like they were doing now. But El thought it was charming. She liked boys.

She liked one boy most of all. She clapped and called, “Yay, Mike!” as her Paladin made another catch on the fly. His long greyhound legs were letting him outpace the other boys, even Jonathan. El had to admit that watching Mike succeed in this physical contest was making her a little… tingly. 

“Watch him!” Will called, pointing at Mike. “If he catches one or gets it first bounce, he’ll win!”

“In his dreams,” Dustin snorted.

“I’m on it,” Lucas said. 

Steve wound up and threw the tennis ball high and long. The boys raced after it, but this ball had pace and it overshot them, hitting the ground in front of them and bouncing high. Mike angled for it, adjusting to make the catch, but Lucas blocked him in the back, on his right side by the arm. Mike gave a strangled cry and went down hard, tumbling.

El gasped. The boys had been knocking each other down all morning, but that looked different. She got to her feet.

Will shot out of the pack and snared the ball on the hop, then raced away, holding it high and shouting, “First bounce – seventy-five points!” 

The other boys turned to head back and then paused, realizing Mike was still down. El started running across the field toward them. 

“Mike!” she called, “Mike!” She dropped to her knees beside him as he sat up, groaning and holding a hand against his back. 

“Hey, Mike, you okay?” Lucas asked, worried. “I didn’t think I hit you that hard.”

Mike nodded, trying to shrug it off. His groan and the expression on his face didn’t look very okay to El. 

“Mike, are you hurt?” she asked, her voice filled with concern. 

“Hey dude, how many fingers am I holding up?” Dustin asked. 

Mike waved him away. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine. I just… I just landed funny is all.”

“Let me see, Mike,” El said, trying to pull his shirt up to get a better look.

“No!” Mike shouted and El jerked back, startled. “No,” he said, more gently. “It’s okay, El. I’ll be okay. I just need to rest for a little bit.” He got to his feet and started down the hill, leaving her sitting on her heels, surprised. 

“Mike,” she called but he kept going, rubbing his back. 

Dustin laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, El,” the stocky boy told her. “Just give him a minute. He’ll be alright. He got knocked around a little and he needs to walk it off.” 

She stood up and watched Mike nervously. He could be excitable and he shouted a lot, but he almost never shouted at her. She worried that he was hurt more than he was letting on. It would be just like him to hide that he was hurt. He hated being a burden to anyone. 

_Be a burden to me, Mike_, she pleaded in her head. _I won’t mind_.

As the boys started their game again, El kept her eyes on Mike. He sat by the steps at the park entrance, watching Max ride her skateboard. El felt a flash of jealousy, but it was gone in a moment. El knew that Mike loved her and he thought she was special. She didn’t worry about Max and Mike anymore.El envied Max’s pretty red hair and she wished she was as curvy as Max was up top. But she knew Max wasn’t going to steal Mike away. Max was her friend and Max was Mike’s friend and that was all. 

El watched the boys play and plucked at the grass. She enjoyed the sun and the breeze. Then she glanced down the hill at Max and Mike and she saw it happen.

* * *

Mike had to admit that Max had gotten really, really good. When he’d first met her, she was still getting the hang of a skateboard, barely able to do an ollie. Eighteen months later, she was doing kick flips and casper flips and fakie big spins with consummate ease. She was doing backside 180s from the stairs and catching serious air. She’d do some rail slides on the little brick walls at the park entrance, hopping in the air and riding the flat of her skateboard along the edge of the wall.

It actually made Mike a little nervous. The park entrance was right next to the road. It wasn’t exactly rush hour but cars passed frequently. It didn’t seem to bother Max though. Mike knew she was a bit of a daredevil – it was one of the reasons Lucas liked her so much.

Mike rubbed his back. Lucas hadn’t pushed him that hard, but it had been right in the bruise from the kidney punch. It hurt like hell. 

Mike sighed. He couldn’t believe he’d raised his voice at El. He was such an idiot. She’d simply been worried that he was hurt, but when she tried to pull up his shirt, Mike had panicked. He didn’t know what he’d been more worried about – that El would see his bruise or that she’d see his pathetic torso in all of its scrawny, snowy white glory.

It had been bad enough that she’d seem him in a t-shirt last night, with his pencil-thin arms on full display. His collared shirts were so much better. They covered his arms and helped hide his swan-like neck, especially when combined with his long hair. _Swan-like_. Geez. That was nice on a woman, but a man should have a bull neck.

El hadn’t seemed to mind the t-shirt though. The way she hugged him last night had been wonderful. Then the kisses, _wow_. El was amazing and she actually seemed to like him, God knows why.

Then he had to go do idiot things like shouting at her when she was trying to take care of him. 

He looked up the hill to where she sat in the grass, watching the other boys play. He should go back now, he thought. He should tell her he was sorry.

“Hey, Wheeler,” Max called to him. “Check this out! Two-level rail slide.”

Max was at the top of the stairs leading into the park. There were twelve steps in all, with a landing half way up. The steps were wide with a central handrail in the middle.

“Are you sure, Max?” Mike said. That would be an awesome trick but it looked really dangerous. 

“Don’t be such a wuss,” she laughed. “I’m all over this.” 

Max skated back a ways to get running room, then she kicked toward the stairs. As she neared them she leaped into the air, landing the flat of her board on top of the metal handrail. She shot forward, riding the board down the rail. She took the landing like a champ, flashed through it, and kept going down. It was one of the most badass things Mike had ever seen. 

Then Max reached the bottom and everything went wrong. 

Her wheels hooked under the rail as she went for the dismount and the board went flying into the park. Max went the other way, hurtling toward the ground. She somehow managed to land on her feet and stumbled into the road. Mike’s heart was in his throat as she tumbled and rolled across one lane and into the other. Her head hit the blacktop.

Mike heard shouting from up the hill and the sound of squealing brakes from the road. A big blue pickup truck was sliding toward Max, tires screeching.

Mike was the Paladin. He was up and running into the road before a thought was even half formed in his mind.

Max staggered to her feet but she was dazed. She didn’t see the truck.

Mike was out of time.

As the Paladin, he did what he had to. Mike lunged, slamming into Max, sending her sprawling into the grass on the far side of the road. Mike landed on his side on the blacktop.

His entire vision was filled with the pickup’s gleaming metal grille. As it slid toward him, a single word flashed through Mike’s mind. 

_Finally_.


	7. The Pickup

**Bath, Maine – Fairwinds Park**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

The big blue pickup truck skidded toward Mike.El stepped into her mind.

It was Papa who taught her how. He’d shown her the way to go inside her head. Once upon a time, she would find it filled with long, feathery, rope-like strands of every color. The strands drifted in a place of pure blue sky, like the tendrils of a thousand jelly fishes floating in the air. El could grab the strands, and tug them, and twist them, and tie them, and they would change the world. With red, green and a little bit of gold, she could turn off the noisy fan at Benny’s. Aqua and amber and turquoise opened most locks. Steel grey and fuligin black killed people.

When Mike jumped into the quarry, she saved his life with strands of silver and blue.

One year ago it all changed. During the battle of Starcourt, El’s powers vanished. They’d weakened before, of course, when she overused them. If she tugged and yanked on the strands too much, it made her weak and tired. This was different.

When El stepped into her mind now, the strands were gone. There was nothing but a grey wall. It towered over her, stretching as far as she could see to the horizons left and right and to the infinite skies above. She knew somehow that the strands were behind it, out of reach. For a long time, she tried every day to break through the wall, but it was strong and sturdy and she couldn’t even scratch it. She tried to walk around it but it never ended no matter how far she went. She tried to climb over it but there was no top that she could see, and anyway it was frictionless and she couldn’t hold on.

Once, only once, she’d managed to crack it. It was last December at Whateley House and Mike’s life had been at stake. El had turned to her sister Kali’s lessons then, drawing on every ounce of hate and rage and fear that boiled in her soul. She turned all of that against the wall and cracked it. Then she watched helplessly as the crack closed and the wall stood unscarred.

She’d saved Mike anyway, with Dustin’s help. After that she never missed her powers. She was still special without them.

She did step into her mind now and then, curious to see if anything had changed. Sometimes she would go more than a week without checking.These days she was so focused on school, and her apprenticeship, and sailing, and her nightly conversations with Mike, that she didn’t have time. She really didn’t care if she had powers or not.

She cared now.

The truck was going to hit Mike. The truck was going to kill Mike.

The endless grey wall stood there in her mind. She couldn’t believe how much she hated it.

_Mike’s going to die_, she told it. _You’re not going to stop me this time_. 

She reached for the blackness in her soul. Papa had given her the first inkling of how the dark emotions led to power. Kali had shown her how to master the evil inside her and give herself strength unimaginable. Last December El had gone even further, into depths that even Kali had been afraid to tap. El reached into that place again.

Even as she did, doubt stirred inside her.

It never worked. Last December she’d tried twice to save Mike’s life with her powers, with everything at stake, and she’d failed. Now, as she dug her hands into the oily pitch that made up the worst parts of her, the doubt gnawed.

She tried to scrape up all the rage she felt for Papa and the scientists, but she could only catch little bits of slime in her fingers. She clutched at the humiliation she felt in school, the way the kids whispered and called her “retard”, but it slipped from her hands like wet soap. She grabbed at her hatred of Troy Walsh, the boy who had tried to kill Mike so long ago, and that was good. She pulled a fist-sized chunk of viscous blackness from that, but she knew it wasn’t enough. Tears of failure streamed down her face as she scrabbled around on her knees digging at her soul.

El was dimly conscious of the truck still sliding toward Mike in the real world. She was running out of time. She stood and faced the wall.

The black emotions in her hands bubbled and turned into fire, blazing around her fists. The flames burned green, then blue. She sobbed. It wouldn’t be enough. When she cracked the wall last December, the flames had been black as pitch, a complete inversion of light.

El launched the fire against the wall, screaming as the blaze licked against the barrier’s grey vastness. Blood trickled from her nose. 

The flames died.

The wall was still there, unharmed. The strands that changed the world were locked away behind it. El buried her face in her hands and she cried and cried.

* * *

The driver of the pickup truck was a decent man. He was big, bearded, dressed today like most days in flannel and overalls. He was a fisherman. He liked kids. He liked his wife, though now and then they got into it a bit, just like any couple.

He’d been distracted by the radio, trying to fix the tuning because it always got a little static here by the park. When he looked up and saw the teenagers in the street, he slammed on the brakes as hard as he could.

* * *

Mike stared as the pickup’s grille filled his vision. It wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned on going out, but he supposed you never really could plan these things. At least he’d saved Max. It was a good way to go.It was honorable.

The only thing he regretted was El. The last thing he’d done was yell at her. He hadn’t even told her he was sorry.

Sitting on the blacktop, Mike curled up, wrapping his arms around his head and tensing for the hit.

He waited longer than he expected.

The driver had braked hard and braked early. The truck was going less than five miles an hour when it hit Mike. It tapped him on the shoulder and knocked him over. Mike blinked in surprise, then quickly crabbed backwards on his heels and elbows as the truck slid to a stop.

Mike’s shoulder hurt and he’d definitely have a bruise but otherwise he was fine.

He was dimly aware of shouting coming from the park as the Party ran down the hill toward him. The driver of the pickup got out, gasping, “You all right, son? Are you all right?” 

Traffic going the other way had stopped as another driver got out to check the situation. “Everyone okay here?” the man called.

Mike clambered to his feet, rubbing his shoulder. The big, bearded pickup driver was looking at him anxiously. “I’m fine,” Mike said. “I think I’m fine. How’s Max?”

The red-haired girl was also getting to her feet, gingerly touching her head. “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m going to have a nice knot back here though.” 

“You kids about scared me to death,” said the pickup driver. He was getting a bit agitated, now that he realized everyone was safe. “What in the hell were you doing in the street like that? I could have killed you!” 

“Sorry,” Mike mumbled. “Sorry.”

“It’s my fault,” Max said, “I made a mistake and I fell. I’m sorry.” 

The Party was around them then, babbling all at once. Mike was only half aware of them, still shocked by his brush with death and coming down off the adrenaline high. He was conscious of Lucas standing in front of Max, speaking urgently to her, clearly wanting to hug her but at the same time afraid to touch her in case she was hurt. Will and Dustin were beside Mike, Dustin demanding that Mike tell him how many fingers he was holding up. Mike heard Jonathan trying to calm the pickup driver. Steve shouted for everyone to get off the road and into the grass and Mike and the Party did what he said.

But the only one that Mike saw, really _saw_, was El. She came toward him, tears streaming down her face. She stopped in front of him and Dustin and Will stepped aside.

“Mike, are you hurt?” she cried. “Are you hurt?” She reached out a tentative hand, afraid to touch him, her tear-stained eyes flickering over him, looking for damage.

“I’m okay,” Mike told her. “It was just a little tap, El. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re okay,” she gasped, repeating it to make sure it was real, “you’re okay.” She wrapped him in her arms, her little form wracked with sobs, and he hugged her back.

“It’s all right, El,” he whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

Then she broke away from him, stepping out of his arms, still crying. She balled up her little fist and hit him right in the chest. “I hate you!” she shrieked.

Mike had never been more shocked in his life.

She hit him again. “I hate you!” She used both fists now, banging them against his chest. “I hate you, I hate you!” 

Mike didn’t try to defend himself. It didn’t hurt. El was small and not very strong and she wasn’t hitting him hard. She was angry, he knew, and she was scared.

Then she hugged him tightly, sobbing and hiccuping into his chest. Now it _did_ hurt because she was pressing the bruise on his shoulder and the bruise on his back, but Mike would be dragged by wild horses before he broke this embrace. “You have to stop, Mike,” El whimpered. “You have to stop doing that. I don’t have my powers any more. I can’t save you. You can’t keep doing this.” 

He didn’t know what to say. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair, trying to soothe her.

She cried even harder. “I can’t lose you. You have to stop jumping into the quarry, Mike. You have to stop.”

Max was beside them then, laying a gentle hand on El’s shoulder. “It was me, El,” the red-haired girl said. “Don’t blame Mike. It was my fault. He was trying to save me. Really, it was my fault.” 

El didn’t break her embrace but she turned her gaze on Max. “Get away from me,” El said bitterly. “You and your stupid skateboard.” She went back to crying against Mike’s chest.

Max looked startled and stepped backward as if she’d received a physical blow. Then she nodded and walked away.

El cried into Mike’s chest for a long time and he never stopped hugging her.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Department of Agriculture, K Branch**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

Sam Owens found the Department of Agriculture on the fourth floor of an unremarkable office building in downtown Bath. The Department took up a small suite of rooms and hallways. The entrance door was glass and marked _Department of Agriculture, K Branch, Root Vegetables and Special Grains_. A greying, middle-aged woman sat behind a desk in the reception area. There were two chairs for visitors next to a coffee table with a stack of old magazines.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

Sam smiled at her. He was generally a pleasant man and he liked to put people at ease. “Yeah, hi. My name is Dr. Owens and I’m here to see Dr. Martin Brenner.”

The receptionist shook her head regretfully. “I’m afraid there’s no one here by that name, sir.” 

Sam smiled again. “Yeah, there is. But it’s okay. I’m going to go get a cup of coffee. I’ll be gone for about ten minutes and you can work out with your boss how you want to handle this.” 

Sam went back to the street and grabbed a decaf at the corner store. He idly skimmed the newspaper while he waited. He checked his watch, finished his coffee and went back to the Department.

“Dr. Brenner will see you now,” the receptionist said as he walked in.

“How about that?” Sam said, but his tone was kind and it took the sting out of his words. “Thank you.” 

He was shown into an unassuming office. A tall, well-dressed man with a thick shock of white hair met him with a firm handshake. 

“Dr. Brenner,” Sam said.

“Sam, good to see you,” said Martin Brenner, sitting behind his desk and gesturing Sam to the visitor’s chair in front of it. “What brings you by?” he asked as Sam got settled. 

“I’ve always been fascinated by root vegetables and special grains,” Sam told him. 

Brenner smiled but said nothing.

“It’s funny, all this time I thought you were dead,” Sam continued. “It turns out you were just reassigned. Guess it’s kind of the same thing when it comes to government work, am I right?” Sam chuckled at the joke. Brenner didn’t.

“Sam,” the white haired man said in a soft, cultured voice, “you didn’t come all the way to Bath to seek me out for no reason. What are you doing here?” 

“Well, that’s what’s funny, Dr. Brenner. I was actually wondering what _you’re_ doing here. We both know you’ll never find a K Branch of the Department of Agriculture on any government register.” He waved his hands at the office. “This is the new headquarters, huh? Whose black budget are you working under? I figured out it’s NSA but I can never tell which faction.”He shrugged with exaggerated futility.“You black book guys are always changing teams, I can never keep up.”

“I’m just here to study root vegetables and special grains, Sam,” Dr. Brenner smiled.

“In the same town where that little girl moved. I’m surprised you were so obvious.”

“She wasn’t my primary reason for coming here but it was a… happy coincidence. It feels like the stars just aligned.”

Sam leaned forward, dropping his smile. “As far as the United States government is concerned, you’re done, Dr. Brenner. Hawkins Laboratory and all associated work on the interdimensional portal is officially closed and all records are sealed. You leave the girl and the Byers family alone, you understand? The government made a deal.”

Brenner kept smiling. “Which government, Sam? You said it yourself. Black budgets and factions. Just because _your_ faction made an agreement under official cover, that doesn’t mean others have to abide by it, so long as it’s kept… black.”

“I’ll have you shut down,” Sam told him.

“How? By who? I study root vegetables and special grains and all of my appropriations are clearly signed off by all requisite authorities.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to an intense whisper. “We’re close, Sam. We’re so close this time. This is the transformational weapon that we need to protect our country and keep it safe! And it’s within our grasp. Do you want the Soviets to get it? They’re trying.” 

“Dr. Brenner…”

“The girl is the key, Sam!” Brenner hissed. “Once I have her and she is… pliable, we will be light years ahead of the Soviets and we can dictate terms.” 

“She doesn’t even have her powers anymore!” Sam said angrily.

Dr. Brenner sat back in his chair, shrugging. “That can be addressed. I’ve studied the problem since last July and there are solutions. If psychoanalysis and mental techniques don’t do the trick, I’ve developed more… invasive… procedures that will work.They do come with certain unfortunate consequences for the individual.” Brenner sat forward again, holding up his hand with a small gap between thumb and finger. “We are _this_ close, Sam. This close. The development of the perfect, unstoppable weapon that will ensure this century and the next are American centuries.”

Sam was quiet for a moment.He tapped his chin.“Are you familiar with the term sociopath, Dr. Brenner?”

“Of course.”

“A sociopath is someone who feels no moral obligation whatsoever. You understand? The only thing stopping a sociopath from doing whatever they want, whenever they want, is either a lack of ability or a fear of punishment. You follow me? What stops a sociopath from committing murder is not that they morally object to murder, but that they’re afraid of the consequences if they get caught.” 

Dr. Brenner nodded. “I take your point, Sam. It’s an unfortunate result of the girl’s upbringing. In our rush to develop her… capabilities… we were perhaps lax in other aspects of her education. We surely paid the price for that.” He ticked off the list. “Eleven killed two orderlies at the lab. She killed a dozen of my agents when she fled in 1983. That same year, she assaulted a young student at Hawkins Middle School, breaking his arm. Other crimes, like theft or vandalism or breaking and entering, hardly exist even as concepts to her. Obviously she wouldn’t feel any moral restraint in regards to them.”

Dr. Brenner steepled his fingers. “With that in mind, it’s clear we need to have a mechanism for controlling her. Once her abilities are returned to her, she’ll be extraordinarily powerful. Anything we try to directly control Eleven would either fail, or be so damaging as to make her... unusable. That’s where the Wheeler boy comes in.”

Sam stared at Brenner, expressionless. “The Wheeler boy.”

“I wouldn’t have expected it, but Eleven has developed quite an attachment to him. If we demonstrate to Eleven that her actions will have consequences for the boy, I believe it should curb her… less helpful behavior.”

“I have a feeling that his parents – and hers – might have some objections to this.”

Dr. Brenner waved his hand. “That can be managed, Sam. Accidents happen, after all.”

Sam sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do this, Dr. Brenner.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have any say in the matter, Sam.”

“This is an illegal operation and I will shut you down.”

The white-haired man scoffed. “You have no jurisdiction here, Sam! For all intents and purposes, you’re nothing but a tourist. I do hope you get a chance to look around while you’re here. Bath is a lovely town.”

Sam Owens picked idly at his fingernails for a moment. Then he looked across the desk at Brenner. “For the record, those two orderlies Eleven killed? They tormented her under your orders. Those twelve agents – your men – that she killed? She killed them escaping from that house of horrors you called a laboratory.A place where you tortured her _for years_. And this schoolboy she assaulted? Eleven broke his arm because he forced ‘the Wheeler boy’ to jump off a cliff. I’m actually impressed by her restraint on that one.”

Sam got up to leave. “You know, you’re a real piece of work, Martin.I say the word ‘sociopath’ and you think I’m talking about her.”


	8. The Excursion

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**   
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

Max sat alone on the old fallen log behind the Byers house. The log was oak, big and firm, and the perfect height for sitting. Yesterday, Max had been here with Lucas eating hot dogs and burgers. Today, she stared at the woods behind the house and she fumed.

How _dare_ El say that to her?

How dare El tell Max to go away, as if it was Max’s fault that El’s boyfriend had a white knight complex. It wasn’t like Max had _asked_ Mike to run into the street in front of that truck. Nothing had happened anyway. The truck had stopped in time.

Mostly.

Max sighed. Maybe it was her fault. Somewhat. It wasn’t exactly smart to try a tough rail slide that close to the street. The thing about skateboarding though, streets and sidewalks were the best places to skate, so some vehicle traffic came with the territory. You just had to cowboy up and deal with it.

Max had been willing to take the risk of a hit. That was her call. It was Mike’s call to shove her out of the way of that pickup when he didn’t have time to get clear himself. Idiot. If Max hadn’t been so dazed from knocking her head on the pavement, she’d have told him to stay back. She’d have taken the hit herself, which _wasn’t really a hit_ because the truck had stopped in time.

More or less.

Wheeler had some cojones, Max had to give him that. She hoped for El’s sake that Mike’s balls weren’t actually enormous and made out of brass, because the boy sure acted like they were.

Max wasn’t sure what happened now. Was this it? Was her friendship with El over? Was Max supposed to apologize? She’d tried, in a way, back at the park. At the very least she’d tried to take the blame. El had certainly been willing to accommodate her on _that_ front. Maybe Max needed to actually say the words, _I’m sorry._

She rubbed irritably at a streak of dirt on her high top sneakers. It seemed more like El should be apologizing to her. El was way out of line talking to Max the way she had. It wasn’t Max’s fault. Wheeler was a big boy, he made his own decisions. Max hadn’t done _anything_.

She sat on the log, her emotions veering between remorse and anger so fast it was making her dizzy. Then she heard footsteps behind her and she turned, ready to lay into Lucas. The boy could be so thick sometimes, he never seemed to figure out when a girl needed time alone.

It was El. Max froze. Her mind raced for something to say but she came up with nothing. 

El quietly sat beside her on the log.

_She’s sitting_, Max thought. _It’ll be okay. I’ll tell her I’m sorry and she’ll accept and we’ll be okay. We’ll be friends again_.

At the same time, a darker part of her mind said, _Well, well, well. Looks like El just realized she doesn’t have many friends, so she needs every one that she’s got. Let the groveling begin_.

The girls sat on the log for a while. The silence was uncomfortable.

Max had a mean streak and she was bitter about a lot of things. Her home life fell somewhere on the scale between bad and horrible. She missed California. She hated Indiana. It all made her sarcastic and nasty and she lashed out a lot at people who cared about her.

Deep down, under the mean streak, she was also a pretty good person.

“I’m sorry, El,” Max said at last, breaking the silence.

El started crying. 

Oh shit. Max hadn’t expected this. She’d forgotten that her skinny friend could turn on the waterworks at the drop of a hat. How did Wheeler deal with it?

El hugged her. “I’m sorry too, Max,” the girl whimpered. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was scared. It wasn’t your fault.”

Max hugged her back, relieved and grateful. It was okay. It was going to be okay.

She was tempted to leave it there, but it wouldn’t be right. “It was my fault, El. I shouldn’t have tried that trick. I’m sorry.”

El shook her head and hugged Max tighter. “You didn’t mean it. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know Mike would do that.”

_Well, I kind of did_, Max thought. _Mike always does stuff like that. I just hadn’t planned on taking a header in the street_. But she didn’t say anything, just ran a comforting hand up and down El’s back until her friend’s tears stopped.

The girls broke the hug and sat quietly again. This time the silence was pleasant, two friends just enjoying each other’s presence.

“How do I make it stop, Max?” El asked at last.

Uh oh, Max thought. With a start like that, El could mean anything. _Oh shit_. Had Mike’s heroics gotten El all horny again? Did she get off on that white knight shit he did? 

Max didn’t think she could take another fifteen minute rant about how Mike made El feel tense and aching and wet. Last night, Max had suggested as gently as possible to El that masturbation could be her friend, but she was pretty sure it had gone over the girl’s head.

There was no away around it. Max was going to have to buy El a magic wand back massager and then take her aside and tell her what women _really_ did with it. That was going to be awkward. 

“How do I get Mike to stop risking his life like that?” El continued.

Oh. This was about Wheeler’s white knight complex. Thank God. Max would much rather talk about that than El’s screaming thigh sweats.

Unfortunately, Max didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have a clue why Mike acted the way he did, much less how to stop him. “Uh…” she began.

“I used to love it about him,” El said, thankfully not waiting for Max to continue. “Maybe I still do. When I escaped from the Lab, Mike was so brave. He protected me. He hid me from his parents. He stopped Lu—” El paused. “He stopped his friends from turning me in. Then I saw him at the quarry. He jumped in to save Dustin’s life.”

El sniffed and a quiet tear trickled down her cheek. “That’s when I knew I loved Mike. I mean, I didn’t know it was love. I hadn’t even heard the word. But now I know that’s what I felt. That’s when I knew I never wanted this boy to leave my life. He was so brave. He would do anything for his friends and I was one of his friends. I thought it would be wonderful if someone would be willing to do something like that for me.”

“And he did,” El continued, tears trickling silently. She didn’t try to wipe them away. “He risked his life for me. He did it when I closed the Gate and he did it when the Mind Flayer possessed your brother. Mike came here last year to fight a demogorgon even when I told him not to. He risked his life again.”

El wiped bitterly at the tears now but they wouldn’t stop. “He keeps doing it. For me, for Dustin, for you. And I hate it, Max. It’s what made me fall in love with him but now I hate it.”

El put her face in her hands and sobbed. “I don’t have my powers anymore. I can’t protect him, Max. I can’t catch him now when he jumps. He’s going to keep doing this Max, and one day the truck isn’t going to stop.”

Max didn’t know what to say. She’d been wrong – this was so much worse than some sex talk. This was _serious_ and way out of Max’s league.

This wasn’t silly stuff like last July, when Mike lied to El and Max told her to dump his ass. That had been kiddie stuff, two young girls playing at relationships and having a laugh. This stuff El was saying now wasn’t kiddie stuff at all. The way El loved Mike was more intense than anything Max had ever seen. Max’s _parents_ had never loved each other like this. Hell, Max didn’t know anyone, teen or adult, who loved someone like this.

“I don’t know, El,” Max admitted. “I don’t know why Mike acts the way he does. I don’t know why he feels like he needs to save everybody.” She waved her hands aimlessly, trying to think. “Maybe he’s an adrenaline junkie or something.”

Then Max shook her head. No, that didn’t seem right. Mike wasn’t a skateboard daredevil like she was. He didn’t rock climb or race dirt bikes or anything like that. Pretty much his only extreme sport was battling supernatural monsters, and he only did that because he had to. If Mike got off on adrenaline highs, he hid it pretty well.

Max thought some more, rubbing El’s back as the girl cried. “Maybe… maybe…” Max’s eyes widened suddenly. “Maybe it’s you.”

El stopped crying.She looked up, confusion on her tear-stained face. “Me?” she wondered.

“Yeah,” Max said. She was on to something. She was sure of it. “I think it could be you, El. I mean, you’re a superhero, right? Sure, you’re on a break right now while you recharge, but for as long as Mike’s known you, you’ve had these amazing superpowers. You can move things with your mind, and kill demogorgons, and throw cars all over the place. And Mike’s just this average guy, right?”

“He’s not _average_,” El protested, but Max waved it away.

“You know what I mean. He’s a regular joe, no superpowers, kind of dorky—” 

“He’s not dorky!” 

“You know what I mean. What it comes down to is that he’s probably feeling overshadowed by you, El. You’re a superhero, like Wonder Woman, and he’s… he’s Jimmy Olsen.”

Max swelled with pride.This theory was so right.It had to be right.“You’re special, El. You’ve always been special. And Mike’s not. Which is totally fine, but it means he feels like he has to prove himself. He’s always going out on a high wire, trying to show that he’s worthwhile. Mike feels like he needs to risk his life and be a big hero, because… because he’s dating a big hero.”

Max nodded. That had to be it. Damn, she should be a psychiatrist or something, she was so good at this.

“So… it’s my fault?” El said, surprised and now horrified.

“No. No! It’s not your fault, El. It’s not anyone’s fault. If anything, this is on Mike. If he feels inadequate, that’s something he has to deal with. It can’t be your problem that he feels overshadowed.”

“But I don’t want him to feel overshadowed, Max. I love him.”

“No, no,” Max said. “Don’t do that thing that women always do, El. Don’t feel like you have to prop your man up or put yourself down to make him feel better. You are who you are. Mike needs to cowboy up and deal with it.”

“Cowboy up,” El said, but she sounded confused and more than a little unconvinced.

“Yeah, cowboy up. Mike needs to be a man. He needs to own his situation. He needs to acknowledge how special you are and he needs to be cool that he can deal with it.”

“He needs to be cool,” El said.

“Right. Exactly. He’s got to stop doing all this white knight shit and just understand that your superpowers are part of the bargain when he dates you.”

“Part of the bargain,” El said. She was quiet for a moment and then her brow wrinkled. “Max, if Mike feels overshadowed by my powers, why does he risk his life now? I don’t have my powers anymore.”

Max paused. It was a good question. She thought hard. “Well, it’s… it’s learned behavior.” Yeah, that was it. 

“Learned behavior?” El was baffled.

“Yeah, you know? Mike must have started behaving this way when he met you over three years ago. He taught himself over time to act like this. And your powers may be on the fritz now, but Mike has been acting like this so long he can’t stop. So he still does all this risky, life-on-the-line stuff.” That was good, Max thought. It made sense. Her theory was still valid. 

“And El, your powers are going to come back eventually,” Max continued. “You know it and I know it. So does Mike. So he’s going to have to deal with this sometime. He might as well deal with it now.”

El nodded. She seemed lost in thought. The moments ticked by and Max couldn’t help wondering what the girl was thinking.

“Everything okay, El?” she asked. Her friend nodded. “So… what are you going to do?”

El looked at Max, her huge brown eyes deadly serious. “Mike doesn’t feel special,” El said. “Because of me. So he keeps risking his life.” A look of determination settled over the girl’s face. “I need him to understand. I need to make sure that Mike understands that he’s special." She took a deep breath. “I need to _show_ him he’s special.”

Max groaned inside. That wasn’t what she’d meant at all.She had an awful feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Waterfront**   
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

Steve Harrington didn’t know much about sailboats. He knew the front was the bow and the back was the stern and the pole where you put the sail was the mast, but that was about it. He knew you called one side of the boat starboard and the other side port, but he wasn’t sure which side was which.

Luckily El seemed to know what she was doing. Under her efficient direction, she and Will and Jonathan soon had the sails raised and the sloop _Enola Holmes_ was underway. 

“We should be on a beam reach or a broad reach most of the way out, so we’ll make good time,” El told Steve. “On the way back we may be close-hauled for a while depending on when we turn. But the wind usually shifts in the late afternoon so it shouldn’t be for long.”

“Um, okay,” Steve told her, nodding his head as if he had the slightest clue what she was talking about. She might as well have been speaking Martian. 

Steve didn’t know Eleven very well, though he’d gotten to know her better after the events last year at Whateley House. He’d come to the conclusion that she was an impressive girl. After twelve years in a lab and another year isolated in Hopper’s cabin, she’d still gotten an apprenticeship at a big shipbuilding yard. They were teaching her the basics of nautical engineering, of all things, and they’d taught her how to sail.

El was a weird, socially awkward laboratory experiment, but she was already building the foundations of her future.

Steve had grown up with every advantage, rich, popular and handsome, and he was going nowhere.

Go figure.

Steve watched El as she took the boat across the harbor, adjusting the trim of the sails with every shift in the wind. He wouldn’t say it out loud, because it made him feel like an old perv, but El was turning into a total babe. 

She was fit and slender. She had shapely long legs that she didn’t seem to mind showing off. At some point, when Steve wasn’t paying attention, she’d developed a behind that wouldn’t quit. El had always had a pretty face and it was just getting prettier as she got older. Granted she didn’t have much of a chest, but you could say the same for Nancy Wheeler, and look at how nuts Steve had been about her. 

On top of her looks, El was a sweet girl. Steve had never heard her say a bad thing about anyone, setting aside this morning’s justified outburst at Mike. She was brave as hell and she could kick ass with the best. Pretty, kind, brave, tough – El was something. 

The icing on the cake was that she wasn’t a lesbian.

Steve sighed. It was a strange world. A scrawny, dorky kid like Wheeler ended up with a girl like El, while the pretty, kind, brave, tough girl of Steve’s dreams was forever out of reach.

Steve turned his attention to the water. There was no point in moping. It was what it was. 

It didn’t take long before he started to see the fish.

They were floating on the water, dead, just like Henderson had told him yesterday. Some of them hissed and bubbled in the sunlight. Now and then one would erupt into goo that was eerily reminiscent of the Flesh Flayer. The sun burned it away.

“Looks like we’re on the right track,” Steve said.

“I knew it,” Dustin said from across the boat. “I hate it when I’m right about this shit.”

Lucas turned to Will. “Do you feel anything?” 

Will shook his head. “No. Not yet anyway.”

El set them on a course for the gap at the far side of the harbor. Soon they left Bath behind and El guided them north and east along the rocky cliffs of the Maine shoreline. The burning, bubbling fish showed them the way.

They followed the coast for a few miles. If they’d hoped for a sign saying _Turn Here For The Upside Down_, they were out of luck. The shore was beautiful though, a mix of majestic cliffs, wave-crashed rocks and sandy beaches. They sailed past small seaside fishing communities and isolated houses on the cliff tops. The Hawkins kids pointed excitedly every time they saw a lighthouse. They waved at passing ships, usually sloops like their own or dinghies or daysailers.

If they weren’t on the trail of a nightmare entity from the other side of space and time, Steve would have said it was fun.

Who was he kidding?It was still fun.

Steve liked this. He could do this. He might be a screw-up making minimum wage at Family Video, but he was _good_ at this. It was a shame that Professional Monster Hunter wasn’t an actual job, because that was something Steve Harrington could see a future in.

He tapped his foot against the spiked bat he’d stowed under the seats, making sure it was secure. It was the credo of the Professional Monster Hunter – always prepared. Just like the fricking Boy Scouts.

They sailed on a few more miles. Steve enjoyed the sun and the wind and the waves, but he noticed that Mike and Lucas were looking more than a little seasick. Wheeler in particular kept standing near the side, spitting into the water like he was trying to clear his mouth. El watched the boy, concern written across her face.

“Are you okay, Mike?” she asked and the black-haired teen nodded.

He didn’t look okay. He was bent over now, still spitting in the water. Suddenly Mike dropped to one knee and retched over the side. The Party cleared away from him, simultaneously worried and revolted. Mike heaved again.

Steve was both fascinated and disgusted when he saw that fish were coming to the surface near Mike, attracted by the food that was once in his stomach. Mike kept heaving until there was nothing left and then he knelt there, groaning.

That was when Will said, “Um, guys… I think I feel something.” The small boy was holding a hand against the back of his neck.

“Shit,” said Dustin.

Steve looked at the water again. More fish were swarming around the boat near Wheeler. One in particular was rising toward him from the crystal blue depths. It was big. It was white and pink and green.

It was no fish.


	9. The Seawolf

**Maine Coastal Waters**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

“Wheeler!” Steve shouted. “Get away from the side!”

Mike was too dazed to move, clearly still seasick and feeling weak after heaving up his lunch.

The huge white form surged up from the depths.

Steve grabbed Mike by the collar and yanked him back as the demogorgon exploded from the sea. Its great claws reached for the boy, scissoring the air where his face had been a moment before. Mike tumbled to the deck.

The creature’s talons sank into the side of the boat. It began to pull itself aboard.

“Demogorgon!” Dustin yelled. “It’s a demogorgon!”

The Party scattered, scrambling away from the creature.It was already halfway out of the water. 

Steve didn’t run. 

He pushed his foot underneath the seats and hooked the spiked bat out from beneath them. In one deft move, he rolled the bat onto his foot and kicked it in the air, catching it in a perfect batter’s grip. 

Steve would never admit it to the kids, but he’d practiced that in his garage for hours.

“Hit it!” Lucas screamed. “Hit it in the head!” 

That would be a novice move.The monster was trying to pull itself up on the gunwale, all of its weight on its hands. Steve smashed it in the arm, knocking one hand away from the boat and unbalancing the beast. It fell, its skull crashing against the side of the boat. The creature lay there, dazed, half on the deck and half in the water.

_Now_ Steve hit it in the head. He swung a perfect two-handed ground stroke that knocked the demogorgon back into the waves.

For a moment there was silence. Steve realized the entire Party was staring at him, open-mouthed. 

Then Dustin yelled, “Holy shit dude, that was awesome!”

_Goddamn right it was awesome_, Steve thought. _Professional Monster Hunter, baby_.

It was too early to spike the football. “Spread out!” Steve shouted. “Watch the water. One hit’s not going to stop it.”

The Party obeyed.In a crisis, when Steve talked, they’d learned to listen. The kids moved to the sides of the boat, peering intently into the clear blue waters.

“Since when do demogorgons know how to swim?” Jonathan wondered.

“I don’t know, man,” Steve said. “Maybe he’s been taking classes down at the Y.”

“I think they like the water,” El said.“It’s part of the Void.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Steve muttered, “but it doesn’t sound good.”

* * *

The waves lapped at the _Enola Holmes_. The Party shuffled around the boat, scanning the sea for any sign of the creature.

Mike groaned and got to his feet. He was weak and shaky.The seasickness was brutal and he’d smacked his head on the deck when Steve yanked him away from the side.He guessed it was better than not having a head at all.

He staggered as the sloop bobbed in the waves.El grabbed Mike’s arm and pulled him next to her by the wheel.

“You stay here,” she said softly. Mike was too groggy to object. 

“Over there!” Max shouted, pointing. A big white and pink form slipped through the water and disappeared. 

“It’s going under the boat,” said Will.

They waited tensely but the thing seemed to have vanished.

“Stay frosty,” Dustin muttered.

Forms and shapes rippled in the water.They were just fish. 

“El,” Steve called, gripping and regripping the bat as he looked into the depths, “we need to get out of here. How fast can we go?” 

“Not fast on sails,” she said. “But there’s a motor under that hatch.”

“A motor,” Dustin gasped.“Thank God.”He tensed as something flashed in the water, but it was just a trick of the sunlight and waves. “What do we need to do?” 

“Hook it to the stern,” El told him. “Fill it with gasoline. Then we can go. It’s fast.” 

“Great,” Dustin said. “Um… where’s the stern?”

A geyser of water erupted at the rear of the boat. The demogorgon latched both claws into the hull and began pulling itself aboard.

“Where the monster is,” El gasped, pointing.

“Of course,” Dustin snarled.“Where else would it be?”

* * *

“Get back!” Steve shouted to the kids as the creature climbed up the side.He charged to the stern and began laying into the beast with his bat. The demogorgon was ready this time, hooking a foot on the gunwale and catching the blows against its arm.It screamed at Steve and he had to leap back as it lashed at him with razor claws.

“Get the motor ready!” Steve yelled. “Go, go!”

“Quick, I need a weapon!” Jonathan shouted. 

“Use the gaff!” El told him.

“What?” 

She pointed. “The stick with the hook on the end!”

Jonathan snatched up the long, spear-like pole and raced into the fray. In moments, he and Steve were battling side by side. 

“This thing is pretty tough,” Steve said through gritted teeth. He flailed away with the bat but the demogorgon was shrugging off the blows.“It’s tougher than the one we fought last December.” 

“Good to know,” Jonathan gasped, ducking as the monster swung at his head.He jabbed it with the gaff and it bellowed. 

“Seriously!” Steve shouted at the rest of the Party. “It’s tougher than the one we fought last December! Hurry up with that motor!”

* * *

Dustin ran to the hatch. Lucas joined him and so did Max.Mike started to follow but El grabbed him by the arm.

“No, Mike!” El said.“You have to stay here.”

“What?” Mike asked. “Why?” 

El paused, as if not knowing what to say.It seemed odd, but Mike could have sworn she was struggling to think of an answer. “To… to help me,” she said finally. “With the sails.While I’m steering the boat.And… and you can protect me if the monster gets near.”

“Oh. Right.” Mike supposed that made sense.He stood with El by the wheel, ready to help the moment she needed him.The lines and the stays and the sails were a mystery, but he guessed he’d just follow her directions.

Mike wasn’t sure how good he felt about this.He didn’t have the slightest idea what he was supposed to be doing.Then again, El knew boats.If she thought he’d be useful here, so be it.

In the meantime, Mike kept a watchful eye on the demogorgon.If that thing wanted to get to El, it would be over his dead body.

* * *

Dustin undogged the hatch and pulled it open.A big, blocky outboard motor lay inside, strapped down next to two cans of gasoline.

“That’s a big motor,” Lucas muttered. 

“It’s a big boat,” Max said.

“It will take all three of us to handle it,” Dustin said. “Hurry!”

* * *

Will stood beside El and Mike, fretting as his brother and Steve battled the demogorgon.He watched Dustin and Lucas and Max struggling with the motor.El was turning the ship, Mike standing protectively by her side.

Will felt useless, just like he always did.Every time the Party went to war with the Upside Down, everyone else had a role, while Will was always kidnapped or possessed or just standing around on the sidelines.

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing at attention.He was a human Upside Down detector.That was his role.That’s what he was good for.

Not this time.Will turned to his sister. “El, I need a weapon.” 

“No!” El and Mike said.Ever since Will’s disappearance and his possession by the Mind Flayer, the couple’s protective instincts toward him seemed to be on overdrive.Every time Will saw them, they looked at him like he was made of porcelain and about to break.Honestly, it drove him crazy.

“I can’t just stand here!”

“Jonathan’s got it under control,” Mike assured him.

Just then the demogorgon backhanded Jonathan, sending him flying.He landed on his back on the deck.He was stunned but there didn’t seem to be any blood.Jonathan groped feebly for the gaff, groaning. 

Will shot a ferocious glare at Mike and El.

“There’s a flare gun,” El admitted. “Under that bench.”

* * *

Dustin, Lucas and Max lifted the outboard out of the hatch just in time to watch Jonathan go airborne. “Damnit,” Dustin said, and then he shouted, “Steve!Would you quit screwing around and get that monster out of the way!It’s kind of hard to hook up the motor if we’re getting eaten!”

“I’m a little busy here, Henderson!” Steve yelled.

Steve whaled away at the beast.Blow to the thigh.Overhead smash to the chest.Block the claw.Spin.Backhand to the head.Feint left, swing right.Duck.

_Keep going_, he thought._You’re a Professional Monster Hunter.You’ve got this_.

But the demogorgon was big and it was fast.With Jonathan down and Steve fighting on his own, the claws kept getting nearer, the jaws kept snapping closer.

A nagging doubt crept into Steve’s mind._You’ve never beaten one of these things on your own before_.

The creature got past his guard. Steve tried to dodge but the beast clipped him on the side of the head. It was enough to send him sprawling.

“Steve!” Dustin gasped.

The demogorgon moved off the gunwale.Steve watched it step over him as if he wasn’t worth the bother.It stalked toward the kids.

It stalked toward Steve’s kids.

* * *

Now that it was standing on the deck, Dustin could appreciate the full awfulness of the demogorgon.It was eight feet, easy.Maybe four hundred pounds?Five hundred?Hard to say.Those talons were at least four inches long though.The creature was white and pink and green and _ugly_.

“Shit!” Dustin yelled.“Shit, shit!”He shuffled along the deck with the motor as fast as he could. 

“Forget the outboard!” Lucas cried. “Drop it!” 

“Don’t drop it!” Max shouted.“We still need it!Set it down!”

They put the motor on the deck and ran as the monster roared at them. 

“Get to the bow!” El called.

“That’s the front of the boat!” Will yelled. Just in case.

* * *

The demogorgon stalked the Party and they scrambled along the deck.They tried to keep the cabin between them and the monster, dodging first to one side of the boat and then the other. The thing from the Upside Down stomped the planks, making them creak with every step.

It reminded Will of playing tag around the dining room table as a little kid.You’d run to one side and your friends would run to the other.You’d switch directions and so would they.Everyone would laugh and scream.

This was a little different.If you got tagged, you weren’t _It_.You were dead.

No one was laughing.

They might be screaming soon.

He gripped the flare gun and wondered what to do.Things had gone from bad to worse so fast it was dizzying.Will wanted to do _something_, but he wasn’t sure bouncing a flare off the demogorgon’s thick hide would help much.He only had one shot.He had to make it count.

The creature growled and snarled as it hunted them.

Will shook his head, frowning.Something strange was happening.It was... it was the growls.

The growls were wrong.The growls were weird.

The growls... made sense.

_Hunting.Hunting.Nice soft meat_.

What the hell?Will shook his head again, trying to clear it.

A low, clicking warble spilled from the demogorgon’s throat.

_Watch the cattle run.So much fun_.

It was the demogorgon, Will realized.He could... understand it.

He could understand the monster that stalked them around the cabin.

The creature stopped suddenly.It growled and coughed.

_God calls_.

It growled again.

_God commands_.

_No more hunting.Time to start killing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so much relationship stuff this time, action instead. I still tried to slip in some Steve and a hint of Mileven.
> 
> I find Will a difficult character. He has some interesting moments in ST, but he often feels more like a plot device than a character IMO. I’m trying to give him a bit more to do in this story, and while some of what he experiences isn’t exactly canon, it’s not *not* canon, if you know what I mean.
> 
> Same thing for the swimming demogorgon. Canon? No. But if you extrapolate on some of the canon and squint a bit, maybe you can see it.
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger (no I’m not). 😊 I’ve got most of the following chapter written so I won’t leave you hanging long.


	10. The Deadeye

**Maine Coastal Waters**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

_No more hunting. Time to start killing_.

The demogorgon’s coughing snarl echoed in Will’s mind. He didn’t know how or why, but he could understand the creature. He understood that it was done playing with its food and ready to start the slaughter.

“Look out,” Will whispered. His friends didn’t hear him. “Look out!” he shouted.

The demogorgon buried its claws in the cabin roof and pulled itself on top.

It was just like playing tag around the dining room table. Eventually, you got tired of chasing your friends left and right and realized that the best way to catch them was climbing _over_ the table.

“Run for it!” Dustin yelled.

The Party dashed to the stern and clustered by the gunwale. They looked about desperately. There was nowhere left to go but the open sea.

Will took a momentary break from bladder-weakening fear so he could be confused. He didn’t see Jonathan anywhere. Steve was gone too.

The demogorgon leaped from the roof of the cabin and slammed onto the deck in front of them. The sloop heaved in the waves from the shock of the landing.

Will’s bladder-weakening fear was back in full effect.

Mike stepped in front of El. “Stay behind me,” the black-haired boy whispered to her, “and get ready to jump.”

Will checked the flare gun. _I guess it’s now or never_, he thought. Then he paused. Behind the demogorgon, the hatch that once covered the outboard motor was opening.

The hideous petals of the demogorgon’s face peeled apart.

Jonathan quietly pulled himself up through the hatch and picked up the gaff. Steve was right behind him.

Will stepped between the monster and his friends. As the Party looked on in shock, he pointed the flare gun. “You want it?” he said. He tried to sound brave and badass but he couldn’t stop his voice from trembling. “Come get it.”

The demogorgon roared.

Jonathan speared it in the back.

* * *

“Go!” Jonathan shouted. “Get out of here!” 

The kids scattered. Jonathan speared the demogorgon again, then again. The creature wheeled, swinging its great claw. Jonathan tried to block with the gaff and the pole broke in two.

The demogorgon raised both taloned fists over its head for the death blow. 

“Right here, bitch,” Steve Harrington said. He stepped into his swing and landed a shot that would put one over the left field fence. 

The demogorgon staggered and stepped back. 

It went down on one knee. It shook its head. It stood up.

“Oh, come on,” Steve almost whined. Jonathan stepped next to him, the hook-headed end of the broken gaff in his hand.

The beast from the Upside Down loomed over them. The creature made a clicking sound in its throat.

For a moment the three combatants looked at each other.

“We need to give the kids time to hook up the motor,” Steve muttered. His eyes flicked over the demogorgon’s sickly white body and its glittering talons.

Jonathan checked the point on his gaff. It was coated in ochre blood. “If we don’t get this thing off the boat, the motor won’t make any difference.” 

The demogorgon scraped its claws together. It reminded Jonathan of someone sharpening a knife.

Steve sighed. He spun the bat in his hands. “Then I guess we’d better get it off the boat.”

It was like a starter’s pistol going off. The demogorgon screamed and Steve and Jonathan yelled and the battle began.

* * *

The Party huddled near the cabin and watched the combat going on in the stern.

“We have to do something!” Max hissed.

“We need to be ready,” said Dustin. “If they can draw that monster away, we can hook up the motor.”

“It won’t matter if that thing is still onboard,” Lucas said.

El’s eyes flicked to the big mainsail. The sail moved in the wind. The boom, the heavy wooden beam that secured the bottom of the sail, jerked and creaked with every gust.

It was the first thing any sailor learned. _Mind the boom_. It could swing fiercely with the wind. It could knock someone’s head off. 

Knock someone into the water.

El stepped to the wheel. “Mike,” she said, “free the jibe preventer.”

The lanky boy stared at her, utterly baffled. “What?”

El tried again. “Release the line by the mainsheet.”

Now Mike stared into the spiderweb tangle of the rigging. “What?”

El pointed. “Untie that rope.”

Mike quickly worked the rope loose. The boom swayed, creaking in the wind.

El nodded. “Everyone get to the bow.”

* * *

In the stern, the demogorgon’s face was fully unfolded and its claws were raking the air like scythes. Steve and Jonathan fought desperately but they both knew there could only be one outcome.

“This is not going the way I planned,” Steve muttered. 

“I know,” Jonathan gasped.

Steve dodged to the side and a sword-like talon whistled past his ear. “The kids won’t have a chance if we don’t get it off the boat!” 

Jonathan stuck the gaff in the creature’s thigh, then skipped backward as its jaws snapped at his face. “I know!”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We both throw caution to the wind—” Jonathan ducked a blow, “tackle this thing, and all three of us go over the side?”

“Son of a bitch,” Steve said. He planted the spiked bat in the crook of the monster’s neck and the creature staggered. “You are thinking what I’m thinking.”

The two young men stepped back and the battle stopped for a moment. Steve and Jonathan couldn’t help staring at the demogorgon’s huge, serrated teeth.

“Are we really going to do this?” Steve asked.

“I guess so,” Jonathan said. “Nice knowing you, Butch.”

Steve nodded. “You too, Sundance.”

* * *

“What are they doing?” Max asked. “They look like they’re about to do something.”

“Yeah, something really stupid,” said Dustin.

El checked the mainsail. She gauged the wind. She gripped the wheel.

“Steve! Jonathan!” she shouted.

The two young men, crouched and ready to charge, looked back at her.

El spun the wheel hard. “Duck!”

The demogorgon screamed.

The _Enola Holmes_ jerked as its tiller went hard to starboard. The wind caught the mainsail, swinging it fast across the boat.

Steve and Jonathan dove for the deck.

The demogorgon paused, puzzled. The boom hit it with bone-crunching speed and catapulted it into the water.

* * *

For a moment it was quiet. 

Then the Party exploded into cheers.

“Did you see that?” gasped Max. “That was awesome!” 

“Oh my god,” laughed Lucas.

El smiled, basking for a moment in the achievement.

“That was amazing, El!” Mike shouted. “You are so amazing!”

El’s smile vanished. She looked at the sails and the rigging, suddenly all business. “Quick, Mike, pull that rope and tie it again. We have to secure the boom.”

Mike grinned and snapped her a jaunty salute. He crouched and started working at the rope.

Dustin wrapped El in a hug. “Jesus Christ, El, that was great!” he whooped. “I don’t care if you’ve got powers or not, you’re still a superhero!”

El was crestfallen. Her eyes flickered to Mike and then away. “No, I’m not,” she said urgently. “I’m not.”

* * *

Steve and Jonathan climbed to their feet. Their faces and clothes were smeared with the grime of the storage hatch and they were growing some prize bruises, but they otherwise seemed okay.

“El,” Jonathan said, shaking his head, “remind me not to mess with you.”

“Agreed,” said Steve. “But even that hit won’t keep the demogorgon down forever. We’ve got to get the motor hooked up and get out of here.”

Dustin, Lucas and Max rushed to the motor and carried it to the stern.

“Lower it over the side,” El told them. “It hooks in there and there. Be careful.”

“Watch the water,” said Steve. “There’s no telling when that thing will come back.”

As the trio worked away at the stern, the rest of the Party scanned the sea. There was no sign of the demogorgon.

“There!” shouted Jonathan.

“Just a fish,” Will said.

The waves lapped against the _Enola Holmes_ and the sun gleamed on the crystal waters.

* * *

Max and Lucas held the motor in place. Dustin leaned far over the side, trying to close the latches that secured the motor to the stern. Max kept a hand on his shoulder, making sure the curly-haired boy didn’t tumble into the sea.

The wind was picking up and the waves were rising.

“Anything?” Steve called, peering into the depths.

“No,” said Jonathan.

Dustin slapped home the first latch. Two to go.

“Nothing here,” said Mike. He paused. “Wait a minute.”

Dustin closed the second latch. One more.

“There!” Mike shouted. “It’s going under the boat! Dustin, look out!”

The demogorgon burst through the waves, its big claws raking at Dustin’s face. 

The stocky boy jerked back but one long talon hooked into his shirt. 

“Shit!” Dustin screamed. “Shit, shit!”

With its other hand, the demogorgon wrapped long fingers around Dustin’s arm and started to pull. 

Lucas grabbed the boy’s shoulder with one hand, trying to hold both him and the motor. On Dustin’s other side, Max did the same. 

Dustin pulled back desperately, but the creature was so strong. The awful flower-petal face unfurled in front of him. For the second time in his life, Dustin felt a demogorgon’s hot breath against his skin.

* * *

Back by the wheel, Will Byers raised the flare gun and took dead aim.

There was a narrow gap between Dustin’s head on the left and Max’s on the right, a small window to hit the demogorgon’s gaping jaws. Will was standing on a pitching deck and his target bobbed and ducked with every motion of the churning sea. 

Will was a small, delicate boy. He wasn’t much good at sports and he knew people thought he was effeminate. He was bullied in school and it depressed him. It didn’t help that he was sick a lot, a lingering effect of his possession by the Mind Flayer. Will had horrible nightmares and sometimes he was afraid to go to sleep. 

As if that wasn’t enough, with every day that passed, it got harder and harder to shake the feeling that he was falling in love with his best friend.

Will’s best friend was a boy.

The kids at school would have a field day with that one. 

Setting aside all of his issues, Will Byers was good in school, and he was loyal to his friends, and he was sweet and he was kind.

He was also pretty good with a gun.

The deck pitched again and the demogorgon pulled Dustin toward its open jaws and Will squeezed the trigger.

_Bullseye_.

The demogorgon’s head snapped back and Dustin slipped free. The monster clawed at its throat, jerking and spasming.

The flare ignited.

* * *

Dustin almost retched as bits of the creature spattered his face.

“Oh, gross!” Max shrieked as ochre blood splashed her shirt. She was a tough kid though and she didn’t lose her grip on the motor.

“Finish hooking it up, quick!” Lucas shouted, spitting ichor off his lips. He clung to the motor, holding it steady.

Dustin leaned back over the side, slapping the last catch in place. He kept one eye on the demogorgon as it sank into the depths. 

Jonathan was beside him then, a can of gasoline in hand, pouring it into the motor. 

Steve pulled Dustin back from the stern, looking anxiously at his young friend. “Are you okay? Henderson, are you okay?” He scrubbed at the gore painting Dustin’s face. 

“I’m okay,” Dustin said. “It’s okay. None of it’s mine.”

“The motor’s ready!” Lucas called as Jonathan put the gas can down on the deck. Lucas started pulling the engine cord. “Let’s go!”

“But… I think Will killed it,” Max said. “Maybe we don’t have to run?”

“We’re running,” said Mike. He pointed. “There’s more.”

The Party looked out at the water. Two more white and green shapes were racing through the waves toward them.

The motor roared to life. 

“Get us out of here, El,” Steve called. 

The slender girl spun the wheel and turned them toward Bath.

* * *

The demogorgons chased the sloop through the waves for a while, but the _Enola Holmes_ was faster and the creatures were soon left behind.

After a few miles the motor started to sputter. The gasoline was running low. They switched off the motor and El took them the rest of the way under sail.

Bath came into view. El guided them back across the harbor toward the dock. It was a perfect day. The sun was shining, the waters were crystal blue, and Bath was one of the prettiest towns on the New England shoreline. With the ships bobbing at anchor by the docks, it looked like a picture postcard.

“That was a hell of a thing,” Steve sighed.

With some saltwater and a few brushes, they’d managed to scrub the demogorgon’s blood off the stern. They weren’t sure yet how they’d explain the missing flare. Maybe no one would notice.

Mike sat on the deck next to the wheel. He seemed to be taking the idea of staying close to El and protecting her very seriously. He still looked a bit seasick, but the mortal terror of the demogorgon attack had put some color back in his cheeks. 

“You said this demogorgon was tougher than the one we fought in December,” Mike said to Steve. “What did you mean?” 

“Well,” Steve considered. “It was just… stronger, I guess. It was taking hits that should have knocked it on its ass and it kept coming. And – I don’t know – I was doing some serious damage with the bat, drawing blood, but it seemed like the wounds were… closing up a little, you know?” 

“Like it was healing?” Mike asked.

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Like it was healing.”

Mike and Dustin exchanged glances. Dustin shook his head and sighed.

“I think that settles it,” Mike said. “The demogorgon was drawing power from the Upside Down. There’s a Gate open. The Mind Flayer is back.”

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Front Street**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

Grigori stood by the pay phone. He checked his watch. At 4.03 pm, the phone rang. He picked it up.

“Yes,” he said.

“It needs to be tonight,” the cultured, patrician voice told him.

“You are sure, Doctor?”

“I had a visit from an old friend today,” Dr. Brenner said. “I wasn’t expecting him. I fear Sam Owens knows more than he should. We need to move now.”

“I am expected at the Project this evening, Doctor,” Grigori said.

“I’ve spoken with your superiors. They understand that you will have other priorities.”

The big Russian said nothing. He drummed his fingers on the top of the phone for a moment, watching the passers-by on the street. “I understand, Doctor,” he said at last.

“Grigori,” Dr. Brenner said. “I need the boy. The girl is not to be harmed. Do you what you must with the rest. Thank you, Grigori.”

Grigori hung up the phone and walked away.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Harbor House Hotel**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

Sam Owens turned off the recorder and took his headphones off. He logged the time, 4.03 pm, and scribbled some notes on a yellow legal pad.

So far the bug he’d planted on Martin Brenner’s visitor chair was working just fine.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Under the Riverwalk**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

The demogorgon finished chewing the fish, bones and all. It was good. The creatures of the Light World were tasty. The demogorgon couldn’t wait to try one of the human cattle, but the One-Who-Was-All had warned it to be cautious. 

The demogorgon peered into the water, hoping to catch another fish. 

The voice of the One-Who-Was-All echoed in its mind. _It will be tonight_.

The demogorgon dipped its head. _As you command_.

_You will kill them all_, God said.

An Eater would never question the One-Who-Was-All, but the demogorgon was confused. _Except for the One-Who-Was-Us?_

_Kill him as well. He slew one of your brothers today. He was once Us but he is no longer Us and We will not have him back_.

The demogorgon raised claws to its forehead to signal apology for its error. _I understand_.

_Wait until the Burning Light is gone and the Cold Light is in the sky. You will go in stealth, but when you reach the Adversary’s den… do what you must._

The demogorgon dipped its head again. _As you command_. 

The presence of God left its mind. 

The demogorgon peered into the water, hoping to catch another fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon is silent on whether Will is gay. I’m trying to find ways to make the character more interesting to me, so I kind of think he is, but right now even he’s not sure. Given it’s the 1980s, he hopes he’s not. In the end, the heart wants what it wants.
> 
> For avoidance of doubt, this is a Mileven story, not a Byler story. The next chapter will be heavy on the Mileven - those crazy kids have a lot of issues to work through.


	11. The Preparations

**Bath, Maine – Route 1, Westbound**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

Eleven didn’t know what to do. Even when she did the right thing, it was the wrong thing.

She’d saved everyone out on the water. With everything at stake, she’d steered the sloop into a jibe that swept the demogorgon from the deck. Eleven had saved the Party not with her powers but with her mind.

Afterward, Mike couldn’t stop looking at her with his stunning brown eyes. He gave her that lovely crooked smile she loved so much. He called her move amazing. He called _her_ amazing. He was so proud of her he positively glowed.

Dustin called her a superhero.

El knew what would happen. Max had helped her see it and now it was all so clear. Her beautiful boy would try even harder to be the Paladin. Mike would find another cliff to jump off, another high wire to dance across, so he could prove he deserved her. 

Now that the Mind Flayer was back, Mike would get plenty of chances. 

How could Mike not know he _already_ deserved her? How could he not see how special he was? Six months ago, with her powers gone and her life in ruins, El had believed _she_ wasn’t good enough for _him_. Mike had been so kind, and loving, and he’d helped her understand that she was always special. So why couldn’t he see that in himself?

El had saved the Party out on the water and it was going to make Mike do something that would kill him.

The wind rushed by her. Mike - her brilliant, brave, beautiful boy – sat beside her in the back of the El Camino.He had one strong, lean arm around her. She snuggled into his side and felt the lovely thump of his heart against her cheek, reminding her with every beat that he was still alive. Now and then Mike would kiss the top of her head and stroke her short, wind-tossed hair.

This should be one of the happiest moments of her life, a memory she would cherish when she was old and grey.

Instead she wanted to cry.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

The sun was on the horizon by the time they got home.

As the young teens piled out of the car, Jonathan warned them not to say anything to his mother.

“How are you and Steve going to explain all that grime?” Dustin asked.

“Or those bruises?” added Lucas.

“We’ll tell her the wind died, so we had to get the motor out,” Steve said. “Jonathan and I got a little dirty and bruised pulling it out of the hatch.”

“Because you picked it up with your face?” Dustin asked skeptically, pointing at the welt on Steve’s cheek.

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said irritably. “Mrs. Byers is so used to seeing me beaten up, she won’t even notice.” 

Steve’s story sounded plausible to El. She would support it if she had to. El had learned that sometimes you needed to lie to parents and this felt like one of those times. 

“Well, that might work for you guys,” Max said, “but how am I going to explain all the demogorgon blood on my shirt?” 

“That’s a good point,” Lucas said, stroking his chin, “I guess you’ll just have to take your shirt off.” 

Max shot him the finger. “Fuck you, you’d just love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck me?” Lucas leered. “I’d have settled for you taking your shirt off, but okay…” 

Max gave him the double finger and he laughed.

“I can go get you another shirt, Max,” El said. “You wait here.”

“See?” Max snapped at Lucas. “Some people actually try to help instead of perving.” Lucas laughed again.

On the other side of the car, Mike caught Will by the arm. “Hey,” Mike said, “since we can’t talk in front of your mom… I just want to say that what you did today was incredible, Will. _Incredible_. You killed a demogorgon. You are like the coolest guy that I know.”

Mike pulled the smaller boy into a hug, ruffling Will’s hair with one hand. Will blushed an extraordinary shade of the deepest red. He awkwardly hugged Mike back, as if afraid to touch his friend too closely.

El knew that her brother was easily embarrassed by praise and he was very shy. His blushing, stammering response to Mike’s hug was sweet, she thought. In the macho male world of insulting, mock-abusive relationships, it warmed El’s heart to see two boys show genuine affection for each other. 

“You are the best, man,” Mike said, “you are the best. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” 

“Thanks, Mike,” Will murmured.

They broke the hug and Mike ruffled Will’s hair again, grinning. Will’s face was glowing so red he looked like a stoplight.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Mike teased. “Now come on, Jonathan said it’s pizza tonight, let’s get our order in.” He and Will went inside. 

“I’ll be right back,” El told Max and she went into the house as well.

Joyce was interrogating Steve and Jonathan in the living room, trying to figure out why they looked like they’d rolled out of a combat zone in west Beirut. Dustin was with them, spinning lies like a consummate bullshit artist and gradually wearing Joyce down. El crept past them into her bedroom, grabbed a shirt from Max’s suitcase, and slipped back outside.

“Thank god,” Max said, grabbing the spare shirt and swiftly shedding her own. El eyed Max’s full bosom and then looked away. The red-haired girl had gorgeous ivory skin dusted with pretty brown freckles. The freckles decorated the slopes of round, heavy boobs that strained against a simple tan bra.

El sighed as she considered her own small, completely unremarkable breasts. It wasn’t that she was obsessed by chest size.Okay, maybe she was. It was obvious to her that boys liked them big. In the hallways at school, they would talk about “melons” and “cantaloupes” and “zeppelins.” The nude pin-ups that the boys hung in their lockers usually had breasts the size of their heads.

El didn’t know if the boys at school talked about her breasts.But she knew girls who were built like her, and she’d heard the boys joke about their “bee stings” and their “cupcakes.”

El hoped Mike liked her boobs. She was afraid he didn’t. He never said anything about them. That’s what worried her the most – _Mike never said anything about them_.

Mike was always telling El that her eyes were pretty, or her hair, or her smile. He never mentioned her boobs. He had never once come to the breakfast table and quietly murmured that her rack looked really nice today. Mike had never once smiled and said, “Gosh, El, your breasts look great in that sweater.”

El wore some sweaters specifically because they made her chest look nice and Mike never said _anything_.

Maybe he didn’t like them.Since he couldn’t say something nice, he didn’t say anything at all.

That would be just like him.

She wasn’t sure though.She knew Mike looked at her breasts sometimes. It was never for very long. He’d always jerk his eyes away the moment she caught him doing it. But he definitely looked.

Maybe Mike thought he shouldn’t say anything even though he actually liked them. El knew there were body parts you could only talk about in special situations.She’d learned that one the hard way.

It was last summer.She’d met Mike and the Party for a day out and Mike had been wearing an adorable pair of khakis. Without thinking, El said, “Mike, your butt looks so cute in those shorts.” He’d turned crimson and the Party burst into howls of laughter.

El had been flustered, not sure what was so funny, and she’d continued, “What? It does. It looks really nice.” 

That just made the Party laugh harder and Mike’s face got even redder.

Later, in private, Mike had gently explained that he was flattered, but there were some body parts you didn’t talk about in public. As El listened, she realized it was basically the same parts that Hopper told her people shouldn’t touch.

Mike said it could be okay to talk about those parts in private, or sometimes in public if you were with friends of the same gender. But usually it was best just to talk about people’s faces, or eyes, or that kind of thing. 

Like so many things, it made sense after Mike explained it.

Maybe that’s what was going on. Maybe Mike thought it just wasn’t right to talk about her boobs. After all, she hadn’t got up the nerve again to talk about his butt. Not even in private. Even though it was super cute.

El shook her head, wondering how in the world her mind had taken her to this place.Her thoughts were just roaming everywhere tonight.

_Mike’s butt_.

She loved stealing glances at it. Sometimes she’d find herself idly wondering what it would be like to sink her teeth into it, just a little bit. Not hard, not like a bite or anything. Just a little bit. She had no idea where she’d gotten the idea, but it always gave her a little happy shiver when she thought about it.

If El thought about it too much, it led to those tingly, liquid feelings, so she usually tried not to go there too often.

She was thinking about it now though…

She jerked back, startled, as Max snapped her fingers in El’s face. 

“Earth to Eleven,” Max said, “you in there, El?”

“Um… what? Sorry,” said El. 

“Geez, you were just staring into space. What were you thinking about?” 

El blushed. “Nothing.” 

“Nothing, huh? Fine, be that way.” Max was clearly unconvinced but she let it be. She leaned in, grinning, and murmured to El, “I saw what you did out there on the boat today.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“The way you tricked Mike into not doing his usual hero bullshit.” Max clasped her hands under her chin, fluttered her eyelashes and said in a high, simpering voice, “Oh, Mike, you have to help me steer the boat. You have to _protect_ me!” The red-haired girl dissolved into giggles.

“I—I didn’t _trick_ him,” El insisted. But she had. She knew it.

“Right, whatever. You _totally_ tricked him. It was awesome. The great thing was the way you used his own instincts to get him to do it. I think you’re getting the hang of this relationship stuff, El.” Max draped a friendly arm over El’s shoulders and led her inside. 

El felt like she’d swallowed a bug.

* * *

While Joyce and Jonathan made pizza in the kitchen, the Party gathered around the dining room table. El spread out her maps. 

“This is where we went today,” El said, tracing her finger along the coastline. She pointed at a spot about five miles away from Bath. “This is where the monster attacked us.” She pulled over another map. “This is a bigger map of the same place.” 

Mike tapped the detail map. “I remember this lighthouse. I saw it on the cliffs when we were attacked. Remember, it was red and yellow? When those two other demogorgons showed up, they were coming more or less from this direction.” He read from the map. “Shingleford Strand. Have you guys ever heard of it?” 

El and Will shook their heads.

“What’s that there?” Steve asked, pointing to some blobs on the map.

“Those are sea caves,” El told him. “That mark over there is a harbor. This one’s a breakwater.”

“Sea caves?” Steve frowned.“That sounds... menacing.The kind of place a demogorgon would like.”

“Maybe.We know there’s a Gate open,” Mike mused, “but we don’t know exactly where. All we know for sure is that the Upside Down is active in this area.” He circled Shingleford Strand with his finger.

“What’s your plan, Mike?” Lucas asked.

El looked at Mike expectantly. Whenever there was trouble, whenever the Upside Down brought a crisis, Mike always had a plan. Her boyfriend was so smart, he could think his way out of anything.

Mike shook his head. “I don’t know yet. We need more information.”

“Well we’re not going back out there on a boat,” Max insisted.

“No, we barely got away the first time,” Mike agreed. “We need to go into research mode. I mean, Gates to the Upside Down don’t pop up out of nowhere. Someone must have helped the Mind Flayer open it.” 

“The Russians, I’ll bet,” Dustin said.

“Maybe. We need to hit the library, look at old newspaper articles, see if we can find any clues. We can also go to Hall of Records and see if there’s been any unusual real estate sales in the area over the last few years.” 

“Like what happened with Starcourt,” Steve said. 

“That’s right,” Mike told him. The black-haired boy paused, thinking. “We also need to get some supplies. We don’t know what we’re facing yet, but some things never go out of style, right?” 

“Just get Will a flare gun and we’re good to go,” said Dustin. 

Will rolled his eyes. “Come on, I got lucky. The demogorgon had its face unfurled, its mouth was open, and I managed to hit it just right so the flare stuck in its throat.”He shook his head.“It was a one in a thousand shot. I could probably never do it again.”

Dustin went pale. “Wait a minute… you mean I’m still alive because you got _lucky_? Nine hundred ninety-nine times out of a thousand I _die_?” 

Will shrugged.

“Holy shit,” Dustin said.

“So, maybe not a flare gun,” Lucas broke in, clearly worried by the expression on Dustin’s face. “But definitely flares for emergency lights. Flashlights and ropes. Extra bullets for Will’s rifle. Some gasoline.”

“Bear trap,” Steve added. 

“Bear trap?” wondered Will. 

“Ask your brother,” Steve told him.

“Right, you get the idea,” Mike interjected. “We start gearing up. Once we’ve done some research and know what we’re facing, we can round out the arsenal.”

“Let’s see,” he continued, “Jonathan has to work tomorrow, but he can drop me, Will, Lucas and Dustin off at the library on his way. Steve, you can take El and Max to get supplies.”

“Oh, I get it,” Max sneered, “the boys do the research. In the meantime, El and I go on a shopping trip because we’re just a bunch of _stupid girls_ who can’t be trusted with a book.Is that it, Wheeler?” 

Mike blinked in surprise. “Wha—? What are you talking about?No! The four of us are going to the library because... we’re nerds.”

“It’s kind of our natural habitat,” Dustin said to Max.

“You and El are going to the store because _someone_ needs to get the supplies,” Mike continued. “And, you know… girls like shopping.”

Max looked quite disgruntled, but El laid a calming hand on the girl’s arm. “Shopping is fun, Max,” El said. 

El noticed the relieved look on Mike’s face. He’d clearly thought he might be in trouble. As if El would get angry at him for sending her shopping instead of digging through a bunch of old newspapers. 

With Mike having roughed out a plan, the Party started talking details. Will got a map of Bath and pointed out where the library and Hall of Records were. Steve sat with Max and Dustin and started writing down a gear list. Mike hovered over it all, putting in suggestions here and there as the Party worked. El watched Mike.

_Mike_.

Her beautiful boy. 

She’d tricked him today. It was just like Max said. El had manipulated him.

She’d used Mike’s emotions, his love and his fierce protectiveness, to keep him by her side and out of harm’s way. She’d used his emotions to make him do something he otherwise wouldn’t have done.

She’d done it once before, last July. Max showed her how. El’s father threatened Mike, and that made Mike lie to El, and then El dumped his ass. After that, Mike did everything he could think of to win her back. He groveled and he whined and he pleaded to be let back into El’s good graces.

It was amazing. By withholding her affection, El made Mike crawl. He tried so hard to make things right.El could have taken him back any time, but she was oddly thrilled by the way she could make him beg. All she had to do was act like she was still angry and Mike would keep going. He practically threw himself at her feet.

Controlling him like that gave her a rush like she’d never experienced before.

It made her feel powerful. It made her feel strong. 

It made her feel sick to her stomach.

El ran Mike so ragged that he finally exploded in rage, shouting at the Party that he loved her and he couldn’t lose her again. In the next room, El heard him and her heart swelled with so much joy that she thought it would burst.

Then all the joy dissolved as she realized what she was doing to him. She realized the truth.

Mike’s heart wasn’t a toy.

Mike’s love wasn’t a plaything.

When Mike gave El his heart, he gave her power over him. With that power came Mike’s trust that she wouldn’t abuse it. 

After that July, El swore she would never abuse it again.

But she had. She’d done it again today. It made her want to throw up.

El knew that some people reveled in the power. She watched Max use it all the time, gleefully using Lucas’ feelings to punish the boy and make him do her bidding. 

El watched Lucas, with every day that passed, care less and less about Max. One day Max was going to dump Lucas and Lucas was going to shrug and walk away.

That wasn’t going to happen to her and Mike. El would never again use Mike’s love against him.

But she couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t go on being the Paladin or he was going to get himself killed.

If El was going to stop Mike from risking his life, she’d have to deal with the problem right at the source. She would have to make Mike understand that he didn’t need to prove anything. She would have to make Mike understand that he was special.

She saw the solution. It was so obvious.Max might as well have handed it to her on a silver platter.

* * *

As Joyce and Jonathan brought out the pizzas, El pulled Max aside. “Max,” she whispered, “I need to talk to Mike tonight.”

“Um… okay?” The red-haired girl was clearly puzzled why El was being so secretive. 

“I need to talk to him in my bedroom. _In private_.” 

Max’s eyebrows climbed up her forehead. “Ah. I see.”

“I’ll bring him to my room after dinner, when everyone is watching the movie. Would you… not come in until I tell you?” 

“Geez, El, why don’t you just hang a tie on the doorknob?” Max joked.

El didn’t get it. “What?”

“Never mind. Fine, yes, I’ll stay away El. I’ll even cover for you if anyone asks questions.” 

“Thanks, Max.” El turned for the dinner table and then stopped and impulsively hugged her friend. Max gently patted her back. 

They sat at the table. El looked at Mike. She loved the way his eyes sparkled as he talked and laughed with his friends. His beautiful face was so animated and happy, it made El melt a little. 

It was clear what she needed to do.

Last night, Max told her that sex was special and you should only do it with people who were special. Max knew that and now El knew that.

Mike, who was _so_ brilliant, must know it too.

El’s plan was foolproof.

Tonight, after dinner, El was going to do sex with Mike and then he would know he was special.


	12. The Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this chapter took so long, guys. I had to travel for business last week and that seriously ate into my writing time. 
> 
> On the bright side, my trip allowed me to go to the Texas Renaissance Festival over the weekend, which was so fun and awesome. My hat is off to all the incredible cosplayers who were there. On the downside, I had way too much fun at the Fest, and drunken writing = bad writing, so that slowed me down too.
> 
> I’m not the best at writing smut and there’s a fair bit of smut ahead. I did the best I could. I hope it’s okay and I’ll see you soon in Chapter 13!

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

Mike was not in the mood to watch _Alien_.

Unfortunately, it was due back at the video store the next day.If they didn’t see it tonight, Mrs. Byers would pay late fees. The whole Party gathered in the living room, gritting their teeth as they prepared to sit through a film about a monster terrorizing the hapless crew of a lonely ship.

Talk about art imitating life.

Mike settled on the couch, sighing.At least Eleven was sitting next to him.He could hold her hand during the movie, and she could curl up against him and clutch his arm during the scary parts.

That would be wonderful.

As the opening credits rolled, Eleven leaned over and put her lips against his ear.He shivered a little at the contact.

“Mike, I need to talk to you,” she whispered.

Mike looked quickly at the Party.They all had eyes glued to the screen.“Okay,” he said softly.

“In my bedroom,” El whispered.She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Oh,” he said. “Right.Okay.”Mike’s pulse quickened.He felt nervous, happy butterflies start to flutter in his stomach.

_Whoa there, cowboy_, he thought._Don’t get ahead of yourself.This could be anything.A lot has happened and El may genuinely just want to talk it out_.

_Then again, it could be she’s realized you two haven’t really... said hello... since you met at the Riverwalk yesterday._

_And it’s been six months._

They got up from the couch. “Mike’s going to help me with something,” El announced loudly. It took an act of will for Mike not to face palm. 

The Party turned to look at them.

“Okay, sweetie,” Mrs. Byers said. 

Max rolled her eyes. So did Dustin. Then everyone turned back to the TV and the doomed crew of the _Nostromo_.

Mike and El stood there awkwardly for a moment, then slunk away to El’s bedroom. El carefully shut the door, as if afraid to make a sound.

“So, um, what is it El?” Mike asked.The butterflies in his stomach had multiplied and now, instead of fluttering, they were doing loops and barrel rolls.

El sat cross-legged on her bed and patted a spot beside her. “Sit down,” she told Mike.

He did, facing her, stretching his long legs out beside her on the bed.

“Mike,” she began, taking a deep breath. She licked her soft, plump lips and Mike couldn’t help staring at her pretty little tongue. “Mike, I want you to know - you are so special.”

He smiled. “You’re special too, El.”

“No,” she said insistently. “Mike, listen. You’re _special_.” 

She seemed to be making a point.Mike had no idea what it was.“Um, okay,” he said, confused. “Uh… thank you?”

“Mike,” she breathed, leaning into him. His heart beat faster as he realized she was about to kiss him. Then those precious lips were against his, soft and lovely and delicious. She broke the kiss and stroked a hand over his cheek. “You’re so special,” she said again.

She kissed his sharp, high cheekbones, then his jawline, then his lips again. “So special,” she murmured.

The kisses were soft and sensual.El was gorgeous and loving, telling him again and again how special he was.Her little fingers drifted over Mike’s chest and arms and neck and it sent shivers down his spine.

Mike had never been so grateful for the tight, concealing prison of his blue jeans.Good lord, this was making him hard.

El nipped at the point of his chin, lightly raking her teeth across it. Then she kissed the little bite mark. “So special,” she whispered.

It was nice to hear her say that.It was also getting kind of weird.

“El,” he asked, “is everything okay?”

El stopped kissing him and looked at him intently.She was breathing deeply.It seemed oddly to Mike as if she was trying to make a decision.She stared into his eyes, searching for something.

Her eyes narrowed.Mike swallowed.Whatever the decision was, she’d made it.

“El?” he asked nervously.

Then she basically attacked him.

El rose up on her knees and smashed her lips over his mouth. She wrapped her hands in Mike’s long hair, holding his head firmly in place. She sucked at his lips, pushing them open with her own. Then El shoved her tongue so far into Mike’s mouth, it felt like she was trying to check whether he still had his tonsils.

Honestly, it was like kissing a vacuum cleaner. 

El’s wet, urgent kisses were awkward and bruising and teeth-clacking. If it was anyone but El, Mike might even have called them unpleasant.

Since it was El, they just made him harder. 

She was still kissing and biting at him when she swung a leg over his hips and straddled him. For a moment she knelt over him, aggressively sucking at his mouth.Then Mike’s eyes jerked open in surprise as El sat right on his boner.

She stopped kissing him. Her eyes were wide open too. 

“El,” Mike said, his brain struggling to deal with soul-crushing embarrassment and mind-blowing arousal all at once.

Whatever he was going to say next died in his throat as El’s hips rocked forward. 

Oh god.

It felt wonderful.

The friction.The pressure.The softness.

One thought forced its way to the front of his mind.

_She’s going to kill m_e.

He’d been found out. Now El knew he was nothing but a pervert.She knew that Mike was so crazed by hormones, so obsessed with sex, that the simple act of kissing his girlfriend was enough to give him a big, aching hard-on. Sweet, loving, naive El had only wanted to show her boyfriend some innocent affection. Instead she ended up with a swollen cock throbbing between her legs.

Then another thought forced its way to the front of Mike’s mind.

_El just humped me_.

Mike was wearing jeans, and El was in her denim shorts, and layers of fabric separated them, but the simple truth was that sweet, beautiful, innocent El had just rubbed herself on Mike’s erection.

Mike looked at her, holding his breath, terrified of the expression he might see on her face.

El was staring at him, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, her lovely pink lips shaped in an ‘O’ of surprise. “Mike,” she breathed.

That tone in her voice. It was… wonder. 

She humped him again.

Holy fuck. It was even better than the first one. El was firmer this time, grinding down on him. Mike groaned and for a moment he was afraid he would black out.

“Mike,” El gasped. This time the tone in her voice was… _delight_.

Good lord.

Mike couldn’t quite believe it, but as far as he could tell, El _liked it_.

He was just starting to wrap his head around that when her eyes flashed and she looked down at where their hips were pressed together. “Mike, where’s your wallet?” she asked.

Mike stared at her, slack-jawed.He couldn’t hide his bewilderment. “What?”

“Where’s your wallet?” she asked urgently. 

What the hell…? Mike had no clue what El was going on about, but it was clearly an important issue for her.

He tried to think, but there was so little blood left in his brain he could barely remember his name, much less where his wallet was. 

“Um, it—it’s in Will’s room,” he stammered. “On—on his dresser.”

For reasons Mike couldn’t comprehend, a look of joy crossed El’s face. “Oh, Mike,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a long, loving kiss.

Then she humped him again.

It was magical. It was sensational. It was by far the best thing he’d ever felt in his entire life.

She didn’t stop. 

And holy shit, it was going to make him come.

El’s denim shorts had a hard seam that was digging into Mike’s cock, but there was an incredible softness too.El was panting against his lips, her tongue stroking in his mouth in time with the rhythm she set with her hips.The sensations were overloading Mike’s nerve endings and making him see stars.

Fuck.

He needed to distract himself or this would be over so fast. He was on the edge, ready to boil right over.

Mike wasn’t much for baseball stats. _A hobgoblin has 1 + 1 hit dice, _he thought desperately. _ It has armor class 5. It does 1d8 damage. Its alignment is lawful evil_.

Then, even as she ground into his lap, El gently stroked Mike’s ear with her delicate little fingers. It was so unbearably sensual that his thoughts dissolved into nothing.

This was El. His beautiful, wild, wonderful El. She was sweet and sexy and so scorching hot, it was like holding a bonfire in his arms. Her full, wet lips were pressed hard against his. Her little tongue was in his mouth. Her soft breasts were pressed against his chest and her slender thighs gripped his hips like a vise. 

It was sensuous and delicious and, holy fuck, the D&D stats _weren’t working_. If El didn’t stop humping him soon, Mike was going to come in his pants.

This was, hands down, the single greatest moment of Mike’s young life. If he came, it would swiftly become the most humiliating moment of his young life. Given he was Mike Wheeler, king of the nerds, and his life was nothing but a long series of humiliating moments, that would be quite an achievement.

He had to get El to stop. He couldn’t just push her away though. He’d seen how hurt and upset she’d been when he jerked away from her at the park. How devastated would she be if he did the same thing now, when things were so much more… intimate?

_Come on, Wheeler_, he told himself. _You’re supposed to be good in a crisis, think of something!_

His brain, starved of blood, scrambled for a plan.

Then he had it, just like that. It was so obvious.

It was perfect.

He would grab El’s ass.

In the best case, it would startle her, stilling her hips long enough for him to roll her gently onto her side or her back. They’d still be together, still kissing, still hugging, but El wouldn’t be able to ride Mike’s throbbing erection into the ground.

In the worst case, she’d be so offended and upset that she’d jerk away from him. El would be angry, she might even want to break up with him, but that was infinitely better than Mike having to explain the wet, sticky mess soaking their jeans.

Whichever way it went, from now until the end of time, Mike would have grabbed El’s ass. He would have put his hands on her gorgeous rump, fingers gripping her beautiful cheeks, and no one would ever be able to take that away from him.

He’d be telling that story when he was in the old folks’ home. 

Mike really couldn’t see a downside.

_Please don’t be angry_, he thought and then he went for it.

He slid his hands from El’s hips and cupped her delightful ass. Good lord, it felt amazing. Her butt was so wonderfully soft and yet somehow still firm. It was better than he’d ever imagined. His hands clenched involuntarily and it was heaven to squeeze those delicious mounds.

He'd fantasized about this for months. He couldn’t believe he’d finally done it.

Then Mike felt panic rising in him. God, he was so stupid.

El was going to be so angry and upset. She was going to yell at him. She was going to slap him. She was going to… 

…knot her fists in his hair, shove her tongue in his throat, and _hump him even harder_.

Okay.

Didn’t see that one coming.

Clearly there had been a failure in Mike’s options analysis. He’d have to get the brain trust together afterward and try to figure out how he’d missed this scenario.

Now, in addition to having his beautiful, unbelievably sexy girlfriend grinding on his aching boner, Mike was clutching her spectacular ass and using it to rock her against him.

His brain usually liked to keep a small supply of emergency blood in his head to control minor bodily functions… like breathing. Mike was pretty sure all of that was gone now.

In hindsight, it seemed pretty clear that grabbing El’s ass had been a tactical error.

Mike fought for control, desperately reciting the periodic table to himself.Then a perverted voice in his head decided to help out.

_That is quite a behind she’s got_, the voice observed. _You know, if El is ever a naughty girl, you should bend her over your lap and give that big ass a spanking._

_Please stop_, Mike said.

_Not too hard_, a second voice chimed in. _Just enough to make her cheeks wobble._

_Get them a little pink_, the first voice agreed.

_Oh my god, would you please stop_, Mike begged.

Mike had to do something. A few more seconds of this and he’d be done for.

He was skinny and not terribly strong, but El was petite and he’d certainly never have a better grip on her. With strength borne of desperation, Mike lifted El and flipped her onto her back on the bed. Now he was on top of her, pressed between her spread legs, propped up on his forearms so he didn’t crush her.

“Mike,” she gasped. She didn’t seem remotely upset by the change of position.If anything, she looked even more aroused.

She was so incredibly beautiful. Her face was flushed, her lips parted and wet, her lovely hair in tousled disarray.

Mike couldn’t help himself. He pushed his erection against her sweet softness and groaned.

“Mike!” El gasped again, delighted. 

Fuck. He struggled for control. He couldn’t do that again.

Mike levered his pelvis away from her and kissed El’s luscious lips. She tangled one hand in his hair and slid the other down to his hip. She pulled, trying to bring him back down to her, but Mike resisted. Then El rocked her hips upward, trying to make contact, lightly brushing against his boner.

Mike moaned, trying to keep his hips clear of El without being obvious about it. He kissed her hard, trying to distract her.

It didn’t work. El urged her hips upward again, arching toward him, then broke the kiss when all she got was the lightest touch. 

“Mike,” she whined, frustrated.

That simple word almost did him in. Hearing her say his name in that tone of voice, like she was aching, almost made him surrender. So what if he creamed his pants right then and there? What would be so bad about that?

Other than being utterly humiliated in front of the most wonderful girl in the world.

Mike needed to distract El, right now. He began to kiss his way down her neck and she moaned. His lips found her fluttering pulse and she gave a whimpering gasp as he lavished it with attention.

He dimly sensed that her hips were still moving, gently rocking back and forth, but she wasn’t trying to stretch for him anymore. El released his hip and stroked her hand up his back, her other hand still fisted in his hair. 

Mike moved up El’s neck toward her ear, teasing the sensitive spot below it with flower petal kisses. He’d never licked the shell of her ear before, but she seemed to love doing that to him, so he decided it was time to return the favor. As Mike’s tongue flicked along the delicate folds, El shivered with pleasure.

“Oh, Mike,” she breathed, her hand tightening in his hair. She was clenching so hard it hurt, but he would have welcomed ten times the pain to see El lost in her feelings like this.

He eased back, moving to a kneeling position, pulling El up with him. He pressed his lips against hers as he sat, facing her. He slid his tongue into her mouth.

Success. It was all good.They were sitting cross-legged on the bed, joined at the lips, El’s hands in his hair.

It was just like last summer in her father’s cabin. It was sweet and lovely and most important, Mike finally had some space to let his painful erection cool off.

For a while they sat like that, kissing again and again, enjoying each other’s mouths and tongues and lips.

Then El started to unbutton his shirt.

“El,” he murmured nervously.

“Mike,” she breathed, “I love you. You’re so special.”

Mike was frozen, unsure what to do, barely responding as she pressed her lips against his. He had a white-knuckled grip on the bedsheets.

El had his shirt half way open and then she was kissing her way down his neck to his collar bone. She nipped at it and then at his chest as she kept opening buttons. El kissed downward again and Mike gasped as her lips found his nipple and she sucked it into her mouth.

“El,” he said in a strangled voice. Mike had never thought of his nipples as being particularly sensitive. But when El sucked on them and, good lord, nipped them lightly with her teeth, it sent all of his slowly returning blood right back into his cock.

“Mike,” she whispered. She kissed and licked at his chest and he realized she’d finished the last button. His shirt was hanging open.

El slid her small hands up the bare skin of his sides, stroking over his ribs. She started to push the shirt off his shoulders.

“El,” Mike gasped, panic ripping through his body. He grabbed at his shirt, trying to hold it on.

“Mike,” she purred in a low, husky voice, kissing his collarbone. She tried again to pull his shirt off. 

“El,” he said, and he couldn’t keep the tense, desperate edge out of his voice.“_No_.” 

She froze.

El leaned back, taking her hands off his shirt. There was shock and confusion on her face. “Mike?”

He pulled his shirt closed, blushing not with arousal but shame. He shrugged awkwardly. “El, I don’t… I don’t want you to take off my shirt.”

She was quiet for a moment, still shocked and just staring at him. “Why not?” she asked in a small, plaintive voice. Her lower lip trembled.

Mike didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell her the truth. He shrugged again, feeling about as low as he ever had. “I just don’t,” he said lamely.

El stared at him, her lip still trembling.Then she turned away from him and sat quietly on the edge of the bed, facing the wall.

Mike couldn’t think of anything to do. So he just sat there.

Time stretched between them.Mike didn’t know what to do.He didn’t know what to say.

After a while, El hunched over and Mike saw her shoulders shake.

She was crying. 

Mike thought that now would probably be a good time for him to die.

But he didn’t.He was still alive, and his girlfriend was feeling so rejected that she was in tears.

_Either step up now or admit you don’t deserve her_, his mind told him.

“El,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, not looking at him. She wasn’t sobbing but he could hear the tears in her voice. 

Mike knelt next to her on the edge of the bed. “El,” he said again. 

“It’s okay, Mike,” she whimpered. “I understand. I do.” 

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his arm around her. She leaned into him, the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“El, I’m sorry. Really, it’s nothing. It’s silly. I just…” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t find the words.

“It’s okay, Mike,” she repeated. El sat up straighter, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She looked at the wall as she spoke. “You don’t want to take your shirt off, because you think that will make me take my shirt off.” Her voice was steady and matter of fact. “And you don’t want me to do that.” 

Now it was Mike’s turn to be shocked.

How could she think that? Of course he wanted her to take her shirt off. It would be the best freaking thing that ever happened to him. “El, no, that’s not—" 

“I know that boys want to move as fast they can,” she said, still looking at the wall and not at him. “But you don’t want to.” She looked down at her small breasts and shrugged. She tried to put an understanding smile on her face but failed miserably as her tears started again. “I don’t blame you, Mike. Why would you want that?” 

Then she closed her eyes and now she did start to sob. 

“El!” Mike cried, folding her in his arms and hugging her against him. He was so stupid. Why did he have to be such an idiot about his shirt?

_Because if she sees you without clothes, she won’t want you anymore_, his mind whispered.

He could feel the waves of sadness rolling from her as she cried into his chest. His scrawny, bruised, pathetic chest that made him so insecure he’d screwed everything up. He didn’t know what to do. He had to fix this. 

“El, please, don’t cry,” he begged. “That’s not it at all. El, you’re beautiful. You’re amazing.”

She kept crying. 

_Come on Wheeler_, he thought, _up your game. You caused this disaster, you need to make it better, you idiot_. He fumbled for the right words and kept coming up blank.

“El—” 

There was a loud crack from the living room.

There were shouts.There was screaming.

El and Mike looked at the bedroom door, shocked. 

There was another crack, then a ripping, grinding, roaring sound. It was like something was tearing down the wall out there. 

They exchanged horrified glances. 

Maybe something _was_ tearing down the wall out there. Maybe something was tearing _through_ the wall out there.

“Look out!” they heard Dustin yell. “It’s a demogorgon! It’s a demogorgon!”


	13. The Apostate

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**  
**Wednesday, July 2, 1986**

The demogorgon ripped its way out of the living room wall. At the same time, as _Alien_ played on the TV screen, the xenomorph burst out of crewman Kane’s chest. Dustin thought there was a certain poetry in that.

Dustin realized then that he wasn’t a big fan of poetry. Steve was going to have to give him the hard sell on the Shakespeare stuff. Assuming they got out of this alive. 

“Look out!” Dustin yelled. “It’s a demogorgon! It’s a demogorgon!”

There was pandemonium in the living room. The Party scattered, climbing over the chairs and the couch and the coffee table to get away from the ghoulish creature that had interrupted movie night.

_It must have wall-walked in the Void to get here_, Dustin thought. _Mike was right. There’s a Gate open somewhere_.

Mrs. Byers screamed Will’s name, telling him to run. Lucas yelled the same at Max. Dustin thought it all sounded like very good advice.

The demogorgon lurched toward them, pieces of drywall and wood cladding falling from its body and clattering across the floor.

Now Joyce screamed at the gaping hole in her living room wall. It was big enough to drive a motorcycle through.

“I just bought this house!” she shouted.

Then she shrieked as the demogorgon swung its great fist and clipped Jonathan in the head, knocking him sprawling. Dustin couldn’t tell for sure, but the older boy looked to be out cold. 

The creature turned toward Dustin next. Holy shit. He’d been doing too much yelling and not enough running. The white and pink monster’s head almost brushed the ceiling. 

Steve stepped into its path. Somehow, the spiked bat was in his hand.

Dustin blinked in surprise. “Steve! Jesus Christ dude, do you sleep with that bat or something?”

Steve spun the weapon in his hand as Dustin scrambled backward. “Always prepared,” Harrington said. He took a two-handed grip. “I’ll hold it off as long as I can. The rest of you grab Jonathan. Get Mike and El. Get out of here.”

For a moment the room was silent except for the blast-furnace breathing of the demogorgon. A long thread of saliva dripped from the creature’s jaws.

“The hell with that,” Lucas said. He reached behind the couch and pulled out a heavy lead pipe. Then he stepped next to Steve. The demogorgon looked back and forth between the two young men, hissing softly.

“Lucas!” Max gasped. “What the hell are you doing? Where did you get that?”

“I got this from the Byers’ garage and stashed it behind the couch,” Lucas said.“I’m sick of getting pushed around by these things.After what went down today, we’re at war.” 

Steve seemed about to protest but then he paused. 

Dustin realized then that Lucas was almost as tall as Steve now. The African-American boy was fit and athletic. His jaw was set and his lips were pursed in a grim line.

After a moment, Steve nodded. “Nice job kid. The couch is a good place to hide things.” 

“Lucas, don’t be stupid!” Max hissed.

Lucas waved her away. When he spoke, his voice was firm. “Stay back, Max. Let me handle this.”

Dustin’s eyes flicked to Max. The red-haired girl was furious and frustrated and fuming. At the same time, oddly, she didn’t say another word. She watched Lucas with big doe eyes and wrung her hands anxiously as her boyfriend prepared for battle.

The demogorgon took another step and let out an unearthly howl that set all the hairs on Dustin’s neck standing up.

“Oh god,” Will gasped, slapping his hands over his ears. “God, make it stop.”

“What is it?” Joyce asked, panicked.

“The demogorgon,” the frail boy said. “I—” He took a deep breath. “I can understand it.”

The Party looked at Will in shock. Steve glanced at him quickly, then turned again to the demogorgon. “You can understand it? Holy shit! What did it say?” 

Will shook his head in anguish. “It— it said we can run if we want. It said it will track us down and kill us, one by one, no matter where we go.”

“Well, that’s not very friendly,” Steve snarled. He waved angrily at the monster.“What the hell? Does ‘take me to your leader’ not get the job done anymore?”

Joyce stared at Will, terrified. “Sweetie,” she whispered, “how can you understand it?”

“I don’t know, Mom,” Will said. “I just can.”

Silence settled over the living room. There was no sound but the breeze blowing through the hole in the wall and the demogorgon’s loud, rustling breaths.

“These monsters are tough,” Steve muttered to Lucas. “We’re probably not going to come out on top. Once everyone gets clear, I want you to run for it.”

Lucas swallowed hard but then he just shrugged. “Let’s see how it goes.” 

“Lucas!” Max whimpered. Dustin had never seen the red-haired girl look so scared.

The demogorgon spread its claws wide and roared. Steve and Lucas reared back to swing. 

Dustin heard a whispering sound, like the smallest puff of wind. He looked through the hole in the living room wall. For just a moment he could see the moon and the stars and then they were blocked by a dark leaping shape. It hurtled through the air. It glittered with teeth and talons.

“Holy shit,” Dustin whispered.

Dart slammed into the demogorgon like a wrecking ball.

* * *

After the screaming and the sounds of the wall ripping, things had gone quiet. Mike could dimly hear the voices of his friends and the muted snarls of the demogorgon.

“Stay behind me, El,” Mike whispered. He looked around for something to use as a weapon, but there was nothing obvious. A mirror on her vanity. Some stuffed animals. A framed picture of him on her dresser. El had used sticky notes on it to spell out the word, “Mike.”

_Fuck_. He’d really screwed this one up. He had to make it right with her. He would, as soon as they got out of this mess. 

“Okay, Mike,” El said softly, one hand clinging to the back of his shirt. The shirt was still hanging open but he didn’t have time for that right now. Stupid shirt.

He was just going to tell her. Let El know his insecurities and let the chips fall where they may.

Just as soon as they got out of this mess.

He reached for the doorknob. 

“Mike, be careful,” she whispered.

He opened the door. The path was clear. They crept into the hallway. 

He saw the demogorgon in the living room. It was big and corpse-white and ugly. The Party had retreated from it, except for Steve and Lucas. The two young men were poised for combat.

There was an enormous hole in the living room wall.

Without warning, something brown and green shot through the hole and crashed into the demogorgon. 

It was a demodog. Mike had just enough time to spot yellow stripes on the newcomer’s tail.

_Dart_. 

Then the whole place went berserk.

The two monsters from the Upside Down locked talons. Dart sank his flower-petal jaws into the demogorgon’s shoulder and then the creatures were thrashing across the floor, smashing the coffee table and obliterating a credenza. Lucas and Steve backpedaled, trying to stay out of the way.

“Stay behind me, El,” Mike said urgently as he watched the fight unfold. “Stay behind me!”

He didn’t see the big man with the buzz cut step out of Joyce’s bedroom and into the hallway behind them. The man grabbed Eleven and she shrieked Mike’s name. 

Mike spun around just in time to see the syringe go into El’s neck. She gasped, twisting helplessly in the man’s hands. Then her eyes closed. The man let her slump to the floor. 

The man was large, heavily muscled, brutish. He had thick black hair and a big jaw. Despite Mike’s shock, he couldn’t help noticing that the man looked a lot like Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“You son of a bitch!” Mike cried. “What did you to do to her?”

The man dropped the syringe and pulled another one from the pocket of his black leather jacket. 

“The same thing I’m going to do to you, malchik,” the man said in a thick Russian accent. “Don’t worry. You just sleep a little. Bad headache when you wake up.”

The man stalked forward with the slow, heavy gait of a cinema cyborg. He reached out, but Mike ducked away, twisting, and punched the man hard in the face.

The Russian’s head didn’t even move.

That was Mike’s best shot and the man hardly noticed.

Almost faster than Mike could see, the man gripped him with an enormous hand and locked one big arm around him. Mike fought to get free, but the man had muscles like steel cables. It was like trying to wrestle a boa constrictor.

The syringe came near.

“You bastard!” Mike yelled. “Get off of me!”

In the living room, the Party’s eyes were fixed on the dueling creatures from the Upside Down. But at Mike’s shout, Mrs. Byers glanced his way. Her eyes widened in shock.

“You!” she gasped.

The Russian looked at Joyce, distracted ever so slightly. Mike sank his teeth into the man’s arm and slapped out at the syringe, knocking it from the man’s hand to the floor. Still trapped in the man’s python arm, Mike kicked the syringe into the living room.

“Fine,” the Russian growled. “We do it the old-fashioned way.”

He slammed Mike into the wall.

It happened so fast, Mike wasn’t even conscious of pain. There was just a bright flash at impact and then stars wherever Mike looked. He was dizzy, fading.

Mike managed to keep his eyes open long enough to see Joyce charge the man, screaming. Mike thought he heard her yell, “It’s you! Where is he! What did you do to him?”

That didn’t make any sense though. How could Mrs. Byers know this Russian?

Mike’s eyes closed as the man backhanded Joyce and knocked her to the floor.

* * *

Dustin huddled next to Will and Max. The three of them watched Dart and the demogorgon circle each other in the ruins of the Byers’ living room. Steve and Lucas stayed back, weapons at the ready, not keen to get between the two monsters.

_Dart was alive_.

Dustin hadn’t been sure what happened to the demodog after the battle at Whateley House. His fear was that Dart had dissolved into ash, like everything from the Upside Down that died in this world. His hope was that Dart had survived and crawled away into the woods.

Now he knew. Dart was here. Dart was alive. 

Dart seemed really pissed off.

Dustin had to do something. Dart was tough, but he couldn’t take on a demogorgon all by himself.

The demogorgon growled and then started making hooting noises. It waved its claws, shaking and clacking them at the demodog. Dustin could have sworn that the creature was… talking… to Dart. 

“What’s it saying?” he asked Will.

“It’s… um, look, this isn’t exact, okay?” the small boy said. “I don’t hear words, it’s more like images, concepts. I’ll try to translate but it’s… loose.”

“Fine, I get it. It’s not Berlitz. What’s the thing saying?”

Will frowned, concentrating. “It’s saying that Dart is… a traitor or… an outcast. It says that Dart is subject to the will or the judgement or... the punishment of the Mind Flayer. It says that pain and suffering and death will be Dart’s penance.”

“Oh no,” Dustin breathed.

Dart reared up on his hind legs and spread his front claws wide. He roared and snapped his teeth at the demogorgon. Then he dropped back to all fours and gave two short barks.

Dustin’s eyes shot to Will. “What did Dart say?”

“Loosely translated? Go fuck yourself.”

The demogorgon screamed in rage and the living room exploded into a melee of teeth and claws. Steve and Lucas danced out of the way as the beasts from the Upside Down locked in a bear hug. The monsters tumbled around the room, smashing chairs into kindling. 

“Steve, Lucas, get in there!” Dustin shouted. “Dart can’t take that thing down by himself!” Then he nudged Will and Max. “You guys grab Jonathan and pull him clear before they roll over him. I’ll be right back.”

“What? You’d better not be running,” Max said angrily.

Dustin couldn’t keep the shock from his face. “Max!It’s me.”

She rolled her eyes. Dustin dashed to Will’s bedroom. He grabbed his backpack and unzipped it. He reached inside. 

There it was. The Smith & Wesson Model 29. Dustin’s gun.

_Dirty Harry’s gun_.

* * *

Mike was aware of movement, a rough hand on his arm, his legs wobbling like jello as he was half-walked, half-dragged down the hallway. Only the big Russian’s vise grip kept him upright.

A door opened and Mike was vaguely conscious that he was in the Byers’ backyard. The Russian hauled Mike through the yard and then down the driveway to the main road.

The fog started to clear from Mike’s head. He felt something hard pressed against his back. He was pretty sure it was a gun.

“Don’t do anything stupid, malchik,” the man said. His accent was heavy but understandable. The gun certainly helped convey his meaning. 

“Where are you taking me?” Mike murmured, still dazed.

“There are people who want you. I’m taking you to them.” It all sounded so reasonable.

The man marched Mike down the street. Mike was conscious of passing through pools of light cast by the street lamps, then going into the darkness and shadow between. He saw a car, a black Mercedes, parked on the shoulder not far ahead.

“Who are they?” Mike asked. His voice was stronger now. “Why would they want me?”

Mike’s head was clearing. He looked around, hoping to see a car passing by. It was late though. There was nothing. 

“You’ll find out,” the Russian said.

Even if someone passed by, there was no guarantee they’d stop. 

Even if they stopped, there was no guarantee they could do anything. The Russian was huge and he had a gun. 

They reached the Mercedes. The Russian opened the passenger door.

“Into the car,” he said.

“No.”

Hell if Mike was just going to go quietly.

The big man grabbed Mike by the hair and pulled hard, yanking him toward the open door. It hurt like hell. It wasn’t nearly as nice as when Eleven pulled Mike’s hair.

“Into the car,” the man said again. He didn’t raise his voice, letting the pain of his grip speak for him. 

“Why don’t you leave the kid alone?” a voice said. “The hair pulling? That’s just uncalled for.”

A figure stepped out of the darkness and into the light of the street lamp. Mike’s eyes widened. It was Dr. Owens.

The stout, greying man had a gun aimed at the Russian’s head. Dr. Owens was at point-blank range, less than a yard. There was no way he could miss. 

“Okay, drop the gun.” The Russian did. “Good boy. Now kick it away.” There was the clatter of metal on the pavement and then the gun disappeared in the grass on the shoulder. 

“You doing all right, kid?” Dr. Owens asked. His attention was diverted, ever so slightly, for just a fraction of a second. 

The big man moved. Mike could barely track it, the Russian was so fast. Dr. Owens was standing too close. 

A swift blow knocked Dr. Owens’ gun from his hand. Then the older man was wrestling with the big Russian. Dr. Owens was surprisingly tough, blocking one great swing, dodging another, but the end was never in any doubt. A blow to the stomach, a stomp to the ankle, then a punch to the head and the doctor was on the ground, moaning.

The Russian turned back to Mike.

“That’s enough,” Mike said. He cocked Dr. Owens’ gun. Mike’s hand trembled slightly, but not enough to matter. The barrel stayed trained on the Russian’s face. 

The big man put his hands up, smiling. He started to back away.

“Stop,” Mike told him. “Stay where you are. That’s far enough.”

The Russian’s smile didn’t fade and he kept backing away, slowly putting distance between himself and Mike. 

“I said stop!” Mike shouted. “I’ll shoot!”

“No, you won’t,” the Russian said. He watched Mike for a moment and then turned.He started jogging down the street away from Mike, in the direction of downtown Bath.

“Stop!” Mike shouted again. He drew a bead on the man’s massive back.

The Russian kept jogging. Not even running. Jogging.

Mike wasn’t great with a gun, but the man was so big and he wasn’t even trying to dodge. It would be hard to miss. 

All Mike had to do was squeeze the trigger.

Soon the man was a hundred yards away. Then two hundred. He shrank in the distance, his shadowy form appearing now and then under the street lights.

Mike eased the gun down and bitterly put the safety on.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t shoot an unarmed man running away. Not even a kidnapper who looked like the Terminator. A kidnapper who had drugged El.

_You fucking pussy_.

Dr. Owens groaned and sat up. “Thanks for the rescue, kid,” he sighed, gingerly touching his jaw, then wincing as he tried to put weight on his ankle. Mike helped the older man up.

“Looks like the bad guy got away,” Dr. Owens continued, “but that’s okay. We’ll get him next time.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike said. “I couldn’t do it. I had a shot but I let him get away.” 

Dr. Owens patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t be sorry,” the doctor said. “You’re a good kid. There should be more people like you.”

* * *

Dustin came out of Will’s bedroom, the Smith & Wesson clutched in his hand. He paused when he saw El lying on the floor, motionless. Mrs. Byers was next to her, groaning and trying to rise.

Dustin raced over, dropping to his knees beside them. Mrs. Byers was clearly alive, so he turned to El first. The girl was unconscious, but breathing. Dustin saw a small pinprick of blood on her neck and a clear plastic syringe on the floor beside her.

What the hell…?

As far as he could tell, El was uninjured. Her pulse was steady. 

Mrs. Byers got to her hands and knees. With a nervous glance at El, Dustin moved to Joyce and helped her to her feet.

“It was him,” Joyce murmured, eyes trying to focus. “It was the Russian. The one who died with Hopper.” 

Dustin had no idea what she was talking about, but clearly _something_ had happened here. 

He looked into the living room.

The battle was raging. Dart and the demogorgon slashed and clawed at each other, splattering ochre blood across the floor. The demodog was smaller, but he was holding his own thanks to Steve and Lucas. The two young men attacked the demogorgon from the back and the sides, battering away at the creature.

Over by the couch, Max and Will had pulled Jonathan to safety. The older boy was still unconscious but moving fitfully now.

The demogorgon slashed at Lucas. The young boy leaped back, barely dodging the talons. They shredded the front of his shirt.

They were holding their own but it wouldn’t last forever. 

Dustin raised the gun.

“Everyone get clear!” he yelled. 

Steve and Lucas backed away, clearly panicked by the sight of Dustin with a gun in his hand. 

“Oh my god, where did you get that?” Lucas gasped.

“Last year,” Dustin said, tracking the demogorgon as it snapped at Dart, “at Whateley House.”

“You kept that cop’s gun?” Steve said, bewildered. 

Dustin nodded. “I had a feeling it would come in handy.”

“And you brought it here? In my car?” Steve seemed horrified.

“Of course I brought it here,” Dustin snapped. “Every time we’re around El, some kind of crazy supernatural terror invades the place.” 

At that moment, the demogorgon caught Dart by the neck. It hurled him across the room. The demodog crashed into a set of bookshelves, collapsing them in a storm of wood and paper.

Dart was down, but now Dustin had the shot. He took dead aim at the demogorgon. The monster roared.

“Go ahead, punk,” Dustin said through gritted teeth. “Make my day.”

He squeezed the trigger.

The television exploded. 

_Shit_. 

“What the hell!” Steve shouted. “Why didn’t you practice with it?” 

Even the demogorgon seemed surprised by how bad the shot was. 

“I’m fifteen years old!” Dustin yelled. “I can’t exactly rock up to the shooting range and start blazing away with a .44! It would be kind of suspicious!” 

“Are you kidding?” Lucas gasped. “We live in _Indiana_. No one would think twice!” 

The monster from the Upside Down stomped toward them.Dustin stared at his doom.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” a voice said in Dustin’s ear. “Give me that.”

Joyce took the gun from his hand. The petite woman stepped forward, glaring at the approaching demogorgon. 

“You never leave us alone,” she hissed.

The demogorgon halted, seemingly disconcerted by Joyce’s anger.

“Every single year you come after my son. You come after my daughter. You come after me.” She gestured wildly around the ruins of her living room. “You do this _every single year_. I am so tired of it! So let me make one thing _very_ clear to you.”

Joyce raised the gun. Her wrist was frail but her hand didn’t shake at all.

“Stay the fuck out of my house.”

The gun roared. Ochre blood blossomed from the monster’s chest. The gun roared again and the thing jerked back, dropping to one knee. The next shot was right in the head. The creature collapsed to the floor.

The demogorgon twitched and its claws scraped feebly at the floor. 

* * *

Dart rolled out of the wreckage of the bookshelf and stalked toward its foe. The Eater was weak, bloody, but still alive.

Still dangerous.

The Eater raised its head, tried to sit up, failed. _This is your new Hive, Apostate?_ It gestured feebly at the humans.

_This is my new Hive_, the demodog growled. _And my name is not Apostate. My name is Dart_.

_Dart?_ The Eater snorted, spitting blood. _What is that? A name the human cattle gave you?_

_A name the Provider gave me_, Dart told it.

The Eater, still spitting blood, was confused. _Who is the Provider?_

_The Provider…_ Dart paused. _You would not understand._

The Eater regarded him. _Fine. Dart. Keep your name for now. Know that it is written in water_.

Dart swelled up, letting his petals unfurl. _My name will last_, he told the Eater._Run.Run back to God. Tell Him that Dart is coming for Him. Tell Him that when I see Him, I will carve my name into His skull_.

Behind them, the human weapon clicked one more time in the small female’s hand. The Bat-Wielder was beside her and the dark human youngling approached as well.

_Run now, Eater_, Dart said. _You are strong, but with my Hive I am stronger_.

* * *

As Joyce cocked the gun again, the demogorgon started crawling. It clawed its way toward the hole in the living room wall, dripping ichor. It dragged itself through, and struggled to its feet. Then it shambled towards the woods, finally breaking into a loping run. 

“That’s right!” Dustin yelled after it.

He stepped through the hole and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“That’s right! You better run! She’s our friend’s mom, and she’s crazy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, Act 1 concludes - and this work is already longer than the first one! Jeepers.
> 
> Act 2 will evolve the plot and Mike and El’s relationship, with the big finale in Act 3. I’m expecting the next two acts to be shorter than the first, so my guess is I’m looking at 80,000 words, more or less, for the whole thing. That said, everything seems to get longer when I write it, so I could be terribly wrong.
> 
> For the avoidance of doubt, I do know where the story is going! I have all the major scenes blocked out in my head, plus the ending - it’s just a matter of getting the words on paper. I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey so far.


	14. The Shopping

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**  
**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

El woke to quite a headache. It felt like a little man was inside her head tapping with a hammer. He would knock behind her eyes, then over her eyes, then move to her temples. He was busy. She wished he would stop.

She forgot about him when she saw Mike.

El was lying in bed, the covers tucked up around her. The sun was up. She was wearing her favorite nightshirt, the white one that said _Princess_ on the front in blue letters. 

Mike was sitting in a chair next to her bed, reading. He looked up from his book when she started to move.

“El,” he said, keeping his voice soft, “thank god, you’re finally awake. How are you? Are you okay?” His gorgeous brown eyes were filled with concern.

“I’m okay,” she murmured.“Head hurts.”

Suddenly she remembered it all, the demogorgon, the big man, the syringe… She sat up abruptly and then moaned as it sent a wave of pain throbbing through her head. Mike shot from his chair.

“Are you okay? El?” He seemed to want to hold her, soothe her, but he also seemed afraid of hurting her even more. 

“My head,” she told him and then, “It’s okay.”

Mike hovered nervously, as if afraid she might break at any moment. Then he stepped over to her dresser. There was a glass of water waiting there and a bottle of aspirin. He knelt next to her bed and held them out. 

“Take some aspirin,” he said, “you’ll feel better. Dr. Owens said the headache should pass in a few hours.” 

She washed the pills down and then looked around, confused. “Mike, what happened? Is the demogorgon dead? Is everyone okay? What happened to that big man?” 

_Why don’t you want me?_

Mike gently told her the story of the night before – Dart, the demogorgon, Joyce and the gun, the big man and the syringe, Dr. Owens.

Mike was clearly ashamed as he told her how he let the big man get away. El wanted to reach out and stroke his cheek then, but she wasn’t sure if they were touching each other anymore. She desperately wanted to comfort him.

Mike shouldn’t be ashamed, she thought. He was such a gentle boy and she loved that about him. He hated hurting other people, even when they hurt him, and she loved that about him, too.

El had killed a lot of people. Mike had never killed anyone. He was innocent. El wanted him to stay innocent. She would do anything to make sure Mike never had to do the things that she had.

“Everyone’s okay?” she asked when Mike finished his tale.

“They’re okay,” he said. “Jonathan’s got a bump on his head, and Joyce and Dr. Owens are a bit shaken, but everyone’s okay.”

El pointed at his cheek. “You have a bruise,” she said quietly.

Mike touched the bruise and shrugged. “The Russian slammed me into the wall. It’s no big deal.” 

That’s the way Mike was. He cared when other people were hurt. When he got hurt, he pretended it didn’t happen. No big deal.

It made her sad. It _was_ a big deal but he would never ask for help. He didn’t want to be a burden. 

The room was quiet. El didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know where things stood between her and Mike. She was afraid to say anything, because that might make it worse.

Mike reached out and took her hands. Her heart beat a little faster. He was touching her. That was good, wasn’t it?

He took a deep breath. “El, I need to leave soon. Jonathan has to go to work and he’s dropping Will and me off at the library. But when I get back, we need to talk.”

Her heart beat even faster now. _We need to talk_. On the television shows, that’s what couples said to each other when they were about to break up. 

_Oh god, was Mike going to dump her ass?_

“It’s about last night, El. Before the demogorgon came. When you and I… were together.”

Mike _was_ going to dump her ass. She felt the tears welling up and fought to hold them in. She’d gone too fast, been too forward.She’d tried to do sex with Mike when he didn’t want to do sex with her. 

She was so stupid.

El knew that when a boy wanted to do sex with a girl, he always tried to do as much as he could, as fast as he could. Max had said so, and Max knew so much more about boys than El did.

It had taken awhile, but last night it eventually became clear to El that Mike _wasn’t_ moving fast and he _didn’t_ want to do sex.

When she’d been in his lap, doing that… thing… that felt so good, he’d stopped her and got them back to just kissing. He’d been very sweet about it, and maybe he even thought she hadn’t noticed, but she had. Mike hadn’t wanted to do something so incredibly intimate with her. He just wanted to kiss. 

Then El hadn’t gotten the hint, and she’d tried to take off his shirt, and he couldn’t be sweet anymore, and he told her _No_.

Just flat out _No_.

Mike didn’t want to do sex with her. She didn’t know why. Probably her boobs. She’d always thought they were too small. He probably didn’t like them. He probably didn’t want to see them.

Maybe it was her butt though. Maybe he thought it was too big.

_Maybe it was both_.

Mike did love her. El was sure of it. But he didn’t want to do sex with her. He didn’t want her _that way_.

And maybe that was okay, she thought. They didn’t _have_ to do sex. After all, they’d been boyfriend and girlfriend for a while now without doing it, and everything had been wonderful.

In fact, until she talked to Max two days ago, El had just thought of sex as something you did to have a baby. She and Mike never talked about having a baby.

So maybe the sex thing wasn’t a big deal. 

Why did it suddenly feel like such a big deal?

And she’d been so stupid, pushing it on Mike. He probably hadn’t even thought about doing sex with her before. Then El had to come up with her _brilliant_ plan last night and she basically forced him to think about it. 

Her beautiful boy took another deep breath, like he was trying to work up his nerve. _Oh god, Mike_, she thought, _please don’t dump my ass. Please, please, please. We can go back to just kissing, it’s okay_.

“El, I was really stupid last night,” Mike said.He wouldn’t look at her. “I was... worried... about some things. I was worried how those things might make you feel about me. I was worried – I _am_ worried – that those things might make you… not like me.”

“Not like you?” El was baffled. How could he think that? How could _anything_ make her not like him?

He stared at her stuffed bear, not able to meet her eyes. “I was worried and I just acted really stupid. I panicked and it made you feel bad and it made you think there was something wrong with you. I feel awful about that.”

“Mike,” she whispered. He looked so sad.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, El. _Nothing_. You’re perfect. You’re gorgeous. I want you so much. I just—”

She almost didn’t hear the rest.The words flashed across her mind in rainbow colors. _Perfect. Gorgeous_. He _wanted_ her.

Then the colors faded. If that was true, why had Mike pushed her away? 

She wondered if he was lying. He didn’t look like he was lying. He looked ashamed.

“I guess I’ve been trying to hide some things from you, El, hoping you wouldn’t notice,” he said. “I realized last night that I can’t hide them anymore, because doing that is hurting you. So tonight… can we talk? Just you and me?”

Her mind raced. What could Mike be hiding? Why would it make her not like him? She couldn’t imagine what it could be.

She kept coming back to the same thing again and again. _Perfect. Gorgeous. He wanted her_.

“Of course we can talk, Mike,” she whispered. She couldn’t hold back any more and she raised her hand to his cheek, stroking his lovely soft skin. He closed his eyes, leaning ever so slightly into her hand, as if her touch soothed him.

Her beautiful boy. 

There was so much love welling up in her that it hurt her heart.

His watch started to beep. He sighed and opened his eyes.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I have to go.”

“Let me come with you.”

“El,” he smiled, “you’re still in your nightshirt. You’ve got a headache. And you need to go shopping.” 

Now she smiled, a little ruefully. “I can see you to the door at least.”

“You can see me to the door,” he agreed. Suddenly he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Her heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she said, just a little surprised.

Mike _loved_ her. Mike _wanted_ her. Inside her head, a tiny El started doing a happy dance around the little man with the hammer. 

Mike helped her get out of bed and put on her robe, trying to keep the movement slow so her head didn’t hurt. He was so concerned and anxious, like she was this fragile little flower. El thought it was terribly sweet.

They walked to the living room. El stopped in surprise.

Dustin was sitting on the floor. There was a big brown demodog lying next to him. Dustin was petting it. 

She really had missed a lot last night.

* * *

**Freeport, Maine – LL Bean Flagship Store**  
**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

Later that morning, when El was feeling better, Steve drove her, Max and Lucas to Freeport. It was about half an hour south of Bath on Route 1. Steve had washed the El Camino that morning, and the big cherry red car gleamed in the parking lot of the LL Bean store.

LL Bean specialized in outdoor apparel and equipment. It was the perfect place to stock up for a confrontation with creatures from another dimension. Oddly, that was seldom mentioned in the store’s advertising.

El liked the store. Joyce took her there when El needed things for her apprenticeship. Today though, El was distracted, barely seeing the racks of clothing and the shelves filled with gear. 

_Mike wanted her_.

Things had seemed so dismal last night, when everything had gone wrong between the two of them, and she’d started crying.Now El thought it would be okay. Mike had something he needed to tell her, but she was certain they could work through it. There was nothing Mike could tell her that would make her stop liking him. They would talk and it would all be better.

In hindsight, she should have figured it out earlier. If she’d paid more attention, if she’d thought harder, it should have been obvious last night that Mike actually did want her.

She smiled blissfully, remembering. It had all been so wonderful, right up until the end...

They kissed on the bed at first, El wondering if she had the nerve to go through with her plan and do sex with Mike. Then she decided that yes, she did.

On the television shows, when people were going to do sex, they started kissing hard and tearing at each other’s clothes. Max had told her that good sex was always passionate. So El went at Mike with abandon, plundering his lips with her own, forcing her tongue into his mouth to show him how much she wanted him. Then she threw her leg over his hips, something she’d never done before, and sat down on his lap. 

That’s when she felt it. Mike’s hard length pressed against her, right against her core, right in her most intimate place.

It felt _amazing_.

Her eyes popped open in shock and wonder because it felt so good and because _she was sitting on Mike’s erection_.

Max had told her about erections. _Boners_. Max said that, just like El got damp when she was aroused, boys got erections when they were aroused.

Mike was definitely aroused. 

By sheer instinct, El rocked her hips against him.If she thought the feel of him pressed against her was amazing, there were absolutely no words for this. Pleasure radiated out from where she rubbed against Mike, his exquisite hardness against her own softness. It was so intense, her eyes rolled back in her head and she was gone.

There was that molten heat, that delicious liquid melting, that feeling of aching tension building up in her like she was heading toward something spectacular. It was stronger than she’d ever felt it.

She rode Mike breathlessly, kissing him the entire time, her breasts crushed against his chest. Then Mike grabbed her butt with both hands and used it to rock her against his erection and El’s mind went completely blank.

She wanted to say Mike’s name but she couldn’t.All she could do was moan into his mouth and pull his hair and hump him as hard as she could. Her hips were in overdrive, surging back and forth over him. It was like she was in a race and she knew there must be a finish line somewhere.The aching in her core was insisting that the finish line _must be close by_.

Then Mike flipped El on her back, easily, using his lean young strength. She was startled, but his sudden show of dominance and power set her on fire. Mike pressed his hips against her, his hard-on grinding into her, and El swore she’d do anything Mike wanted if he would just keep doing that, again and again…

El blinked out of her memories.

Goodness. She was damp again just from thinking about it.

She took a deep breath and tried to turn her mind to other things. It wouldn’t be a very fun shopping trip if she spent it walking around the store feeling tense and frustrated.

Focus. They were here for a reason. They had supplies to buy.

All she wanted to do was go back to Bath and see Mike again, but they had a war to fight. 

* * *

As the group strolled the enormous, multi-level building, El watched Max conspicuously ignore Lucas. The young man had originally planned to go to the library and do research with his friends. Max was so furious at him for fighting the demogorgon the night before, he’d decided to tag along on the shopping trip instead.

Lucas tried a few times that morning to talk to Max, but the red-haired girl was giving him a cold shoulder of arctic proportions.

El had a feeling this one would cost Lucas at least a necklace.Maybe a bracelet, too.

Max linked her arm through El’s and steered them toward the apparel section, very deliberately _not_ looking at Lucas. The young man sighed and went off with Steve toward the camping supplies. 

“Jerk,” Max muttered under her breath at Lucas’ retreating form. El didn’t say anything. It always made her uncomfortable when Max and Lucas fought, and it seemed like they fought a lot.

“Anyway,” Max said, once Lucas was out of sight.She pulled El to a halt in front of a rack of plaid shirts. The red-haired girl’s voice was sly and teasing. “How did it go last night, El?”

“How did it go?”

“Don’t play innocent with me. How did it go last night with Mike? Did you guys… _talk_?” Max couldn’t keep the leer off her face. 

“Um…” El began. _Friends don’t lie_, she reminded herself. “We talked… a little,” she admitted.

“Really,” Max laughed. “You guys were in there a long time. What _else_ were you doing?” If anything, Max’s leer was even bigger now. 

“We did… some other things,” El said, blushing.

“Oh my god, El!” Max said, shocked and thrilled. “What did you do?How was it?”Her eyes widened.“You didn’t... you didn’t go all the way, did you?”

“No,” El said.“No, we didn’t do sex.”She shrugged bashfully. “We did some other things though.It was… nice.”

“Nice?” Max frowned.“El, cuddling in front of the TV is nice.You don’t blush that red over _nice_.”

Now El blushed even harder. _Friends don’t lie_. “Max, it was amazing.It felt _so_ good.”

“Well, that’s more like it,” Max said.Then she seemed momentarily surprised. “Wow.Wheeler’s good. Who would have guessed?”

The red-haired girl looked around, making sure no one was listening. She leaned closer to El.“So, El... did you come?”

“I— I don’t know,” El said. “But it felt good.”

“Oh,” Max said, disappointed. “Then you didn’t. If you came, you’d definitely know.” Suddenly Max’s eyes lit up with anger. “So wait a minute, that fucking Wheeler got you all worked up and then left you hanging? That’s _so_ like a boy. I bet he got _his_ rocks off though, didn’t he?”

“Rocks?” El had no idea what rocks had to do with it. 

“Sorry, El.Figure of speech. Did Mike come?”

“I don’t know,” El said. “How would I tell?” 

“Well, was there any…” Max jerked her fist in the air and made a spurting noise.

El was utterly confused. “What?”

“You know…” Max repeated the jerking motion and made the spurting noise again, only louder this time. It really didn’t help.

“I don’t know what that means, Max.” 

“Was there any jizz?” Max asked.

“Jizz?” Honestly, it was like Max wasn’t even speaking English anymore. 

“Sperm, El! Semen!” Max was getting a little frustrated. “Was there any white, gooey liquid?” 

“Oh,” said El, thinking. “No.”

“Huh.”Max seemed a little surprised. “Well, okay.I guess that’s something.Maybe Mike’s not such a selfish jerk after all.Okay, so you didn’t come, but it was still good?”

“It was wonderful,” El breathed, then she paused. “Except…”

“What?” asked Max. 

El shrugged, feeling awkward and more than a little embarrassed about the way the night had finished. “Except after awhile, Mike got a little… weird.” 

“He got weird? How?” Suddenly the red-haired girl gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. “Oh my god, El, did he try to get you to do it in the ass?”

El stared at Max, shocked.

Max put her hands on her hips, fuming. “I knew Wheeler was a pervert, but to go for it that fast, _really_?”

El finally managed to find her voice. Wide-eyed, she said, “You can do sex in the ass?” 

“Oh,” Max said, surprised by El’s surprise. “I guess that wasn’t it then. Sorry, El, never mind.”

El was bewildered.“How does that even work?” she wondered. 

“Seriously, El, forget about it,” Max told her. “I jumped to the wrong conclusion. Never mind, okay?Let’s just drop it.”

But El couldn’t stop fretting over this new information.There was more than one way to do sex.They hadn’t taught her _that_ in school.She hadn’t realized it could all be so complicated.

Suddenly it hit her.Had _that_ been the problem last night?

“Max,” she asked, “do you think Mike prefers doing sex in the ass? Should I ask him?”

“Oh my god, El,” Max said, face-palming, “would you. Just. Let it. Go.”

Max clearly didn’t want to talk about this right now. El would have to ask her again later, when the red-haired girl wasn’t in such a grumpy mood.

There was an awkward silence.Then Max cleared her throat. “So, El, if it wasn’t… that… then what was Mike doing that was so weird?” 

El shrugged. “We were… doing things… that felt really good. But then Mike took us back to just kissing. He tried to be sweet about it, but I could tell he didn’t want to keep doing what we were doing. Then I— I tried to take off his shirt and he didn’t want me to.”

She decided not to tell Max about how they’d broken apart and El had started crying. She was pretty sure now that had been a misunderstanding, and telling Max would just make the girl angrier at Mike than usual.

“So let me get this straight,” Max said. “You two were getting hot and heavy, and then Mike dialed it back? And he didn’t want you to take his clothes off?”

“That’s right,” El said.

“And he didn’t come? It wasn’t because he came and he was done?” 

“I don’t think so.”

“Huh.” The flame-haired girl scratched her head. “That is weird.”

* * *

After a while, El went off by herself to look at gear while Max searched for Lucas. El browsed the boat shoes and windbreakers and rope lines. There were some new books on sailing she hadn’t seen before, but she couldn’t buy them right now. They needed the money to prepare for the battle with the Upside Down.

Eventually El made her way to the camping supplies. She was looking at flashlights, testing their weight and the strength of the beam, when she heard Max and Lucas arguing in the next aisle over. The aisles were high and El couldn’t see them, but she could hear them.

“Seriously,” Max snarled at her boyfriend, “what’s wrong with you? You go charging at a demogorgon like that and then you tell me to stay back and let you handle it? Like I’m some damsel in distress who needs protecting?What, did your brain get so hopped up on testosterone that you stopped thinking entirely?”

“Max, it wasn’t like that,” Lucas responded in his nasally voice. “The demogorgon was threatening all of us. Steve needed back up. I lent him a hand.”

El decided to sneak away. She never liked hearing Max and Lucas argue. Then Max spoke and El froze. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Lucas. You were doing that stupid hero shit. What, you’ve got a white knight complex now just like Wheeler does?”

El could hear the grin in Lucas’ voice. “Please. Black knight complex, maybe.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. You know what I mean. I’m not a superhero, Lucas. I’m not El, and you’re not Mike. You don’t have to do all kinds of risky bullshit to prove you deserve me.”

“What are you talking about?” Lucas sounded genuinely confused.

El crouched down on the other side of the aisle, feeling a little bad about eavesdropping on her friends but unable to stop listening.

“What am I talking about?” Max gasped. “I’m talking about Wheeler’s crazy hero complex. The way he’s always risking his life for people – diving in front of trucks and things like that.Mike has to do that because his girlfriend’s a superhero and he thinks he doesn’t deserve her.But you don’t have to do that with me, Lucas.”

The girl took a deep breath. “You don’t have to go attacking monsters with a pipe.I like you the way you are, okay? I don’t need you covered with scars or in a wheelchair or dead. So if you don’t mind, do me a favor and leave that for Mike, okay?”

There was silence. El wondered if the couple had moved away. Then she heard a sound.Kissing.

“I can’t promise I won’t do it again,” Lucas finally said.“Sometimes a man has to stand up and be counted, Max.But I promise, I’ll only do it because it’s right, not because I’m trying to ‘prove myself’ or something.”

“Okay,” Max said, reluctantly.El heard more kissing.

When the kiss broke, there was a hint of pleasure in Max’s voice.“Well, you’re definitely not inadequate after _that_.I’m glad that’s only Wheeler’s problem.” 

Lucas chuckled but then a tone of confusion entered his voice. “Max, you don’t really think Mike does all that Paladin stuff because of El, do you?”

El’s ears pricked up.What was this?

“Well, duh,” Max told him. “She’s a freaking superhero, even if her powers are a little on the fritz right now. Mike feels inadequate and he’s trying to prove he deserves her.” There must have been something on Lucas’ face, because when Max spoke again her voice was uncertain. “Isn’t that what he’s doing?” 

“No,” Lucas said. “No, that’s not it at all. I mean – really? That’s what you thought?”

“Well, enlighten me, Lucas. What’s the big fucking secret?” 

“It’s not a secret,” Lucas said. “I mean… I guess we all know. Me and Dustin and Will. I guess we don’t talk about it much.I just assumed you knew also.”

“Well I don’t, smart guy, so enlighten me.” Despite Max’s aggressive words, her tone was uncertain. 

“Well…” Lucas searched for the right words. “Mike’s Paladin thing - jumping into quarries and all that - he doesn’t do it because he feels like he needs to prove something to El. He does it because he hates himself. He hates his life. He thinks he’s worthless.”

Max didn’t say anything.

El felt a fist clench around her heart.

Lucas continued. “Mike does all these crazy things because he figures it’s no big loss if he dies. If he goes out in a blaze of glory saving someone’s life, well, great.He’s saved someone’s life and maybe that makes his own life worthwhile in the end.”

El sank to her knees and covered her mouth with her hands.

“Oh my god,” Max breathed. “Is… Is he suicidal or something?” 

“Suicidal?No. No. Mike would never kill himself. I mean, the guy thinks he’s a loser, right? Committing suicide would be the biggest loss of all. Mike would never just quit like that. But if he happens to die while doing something heroic, let’s just say he wouldn’t think that’s so bad.”

“What happened to him?” Max asked. When she spoke there was a deep current of emotion. “Did his parents abuse him? Are they abusing him now?” El could hear a thick thread of rage in Max’s voice.

“No!” Lucas said. “I mean, I don’t think so. No.Mike’s parents are decent people. Mike wasn’t abused. He’s just… forgotten, you know?”

“Forgotten?”

“Nancy was the first child and got all the attention.Holly’s the youngest and now she gets all the attention. Mike’s in the middle. His parents don’t abuse him. They just… don’t notice he’s there sometimes.”

“But it’s not about that,” Lucas continued sadly. “Mike’s been bullied his whole life. I mean, you’ve seen him. He’s no good at sports, he’s a nerd, he’s really skinny. He’s been tormented pretty much non-stop, except for those couple of years when El was around and she scared the bullies away.”

El started to cry.She bit her lip to keep from sobbing.She didn’t want them to know she was there.

“Why doesn’t he tell someone?” Max gasped, but there wasn’t a lot of fight in her voice. She just sounded sad.

“Who’s he going to tell? The teachers? His parents? What are they going to do?” El could hear Lucas scuffing his shoe on the floor. “He doesn’t even tell us. Not me, not Dustin. He doesn’t want to bother us with his problems.” 

“But you’re his friends!” Max said.

“You know what Mike’s like. The guy’s always trying to protect everybody else, look out for everybody else.” For a moment just a hint of bitterness came into Lucas’ voice. “I mean, look at Mike’s friends, right? The boy with no teeth, the fairy, and the only black kid in Indiana.”

“Lucas,” Max whimpered. 

El could hear a sad shrug when Lucas spoke. “Mike picks up strays. Mike protects strays, even if it means he gets the shit kicked out of him. It’s just what he does.”

“Well, he needs to ask for help,” Max said. “He’s got to change what’s going on in his head. He’s killing El with this Paladin bullshit.”

“I’m not even done,” Lucas sighed. “The worst of it is that Mike can’t even see himself right.”

“What do you mean?”Max asked nervously.

“Well, you know, when you or I look in a mirror, we see ourselves. Basically. More or less. Parts we like, parts we don’t.But when Mike looks in a mirror, it’s like he’s in a funhouse. The mirror’s all distorted. He doesn’t see what he actually looks like. In his head, it’s all fucked up and ugly.” 

El hugged herself tightly, her shoulders shaking with muffled sobs.

“But he’s cute!” Max said. “He’s really cute! He’s a little skinny, sure, but it’s fine! Come on, El thinks he’s gorgeous!”

Lucas was quiet for a moment. “Mike is my best friend. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten. But the guy is fucking lost. He’s so deep in a hole that I don’t think he’s ever coming out.” Lucas sighed. “Mike’s been trying to go out in a blaze of glory since he was nine years old.Some part of him is always hoping that today’s finally the day.”

El didn’t think she’d ever stop crying.

_Mike. Her poor Mike. Her beautiful, brilliant, broken boy_.

She didn’t know what to do but sob on her knees, alone, next to the flashlights and the storm lamps at LL Bean.

No,” Lucas said. “El doesn’t have anything to do with this.El is the only thing about Mike’s life that he thinks is any good.”


	15. The Factions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now and then you’ll watch a movie and you’ll get to the exposition scene, where the characters talk to each other and explain the rest of the plot. 
> 
> Think original universe Spock talking to Kelvin universe Kirk on the ice planet in the Star Trek reboot. Or Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark talking to the government reps about the Ark, the city of Tanis, the map room and the Staff of Ra. 
> 
> The scene sets the stage for what’s going to happen in the rest of the movie and explains what’s going on. This chapter is that scene.
> 
> Hopefully it’s a bit more than that, with character notes and a little Mileven.
> 
> And the next chapter? Pretty much all Mileven.
> 
> On a different note, since I’m doing an AN, I’d just like to give a word of thanks to the commenters. You all make this so much fun. I love hearing your thoughts and ideas, and a fair number of you have influenced this story and made it better. I have to get this story out of my head, so I’ll write it until they pry the keyboard from my cold, dead hands, but you all inspire me to write as often and as much as I can. You’re the best, and thank you.

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

Martin Brenner settled into his chair in the Grey Room. The light in the small room was pale and indirect, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere. The walls, ceiling and floor were a uniform placid grey. White noise murmured from speakers. The only thing in the room was the chair.

Brenner pulled the wire-mesh skullcap over his thick white hair and placed the receptors against his temples. He keyed the device on and stared at the wall in front of him.

A deep, hollow voice echoed in his mind. “Silver-Hair,” it said.

“Entity,” he greeted it. Brenner spoke because it made it easier for him, though it wasn’t technically necessary. “The process is nearly complete. We have sufficient mass.”

“Yes,” the voice agreed.

“You will test it tonight?”

“Tonight,” the Mind Flayer said. “When the Cold Light shines. Then I will transfer My will to the creature.”

“Excellent. Though do be cautious,” Dr. Brenner said. “It would not do for you to be seen.”

“You worry without reason. Your kind see poorly in the darkness. Even when they can see, humans doubt their senses in the face of things that are strange to them.”

“I appreciate this. Nevertheless, I believe the connection to your creation will be weak for the first few days. The creature will act on instinct to a great degree.”

There was a shrug in the Entity’s voice. “I will stay within the waters, where it is black to your eyes. My control will be sufficient.”

“Very wise,” said Dr. Brenner. “The Gate is ready. I look forward to your arrival.”

The Entity started to dissolve the connection.

“A moment,” Dr. Brenner said. The alien presence lingered in his mind. “I understand one of your creatures attacked a house in Bath last night. The house where the girl lives. This is not in accord with our agreement.”

For a moment the Mind Flayer said nothing. Then its voice echoed.“I understand one of your lackeys was at the house last night as well. He sought the Adversary’s mate. Why was that?”

“Your information is incorrect,” Dr. Brenner lied calmly. “No one who works for me was in the area. It is an understandable mistake. I know humans all look very similar to your kind.” He waited but the voice did not respond. “Our agreement was that Eleven would be left unharmed for now.”

“She came near the Gate yesterday,” the Mind Flayer told him. “My agreement did not include allowing the Adversary to threaten Me.”

“She is no threat,” Dr. Brenner said. “She has no power.”

“Indeed,” the Mind Flayer replied instantly. “So why do you preserve her?”

“I have a fondness for the child,” Brenner said smoothly. “She was under my care for many years.”

The Mind Flayer was incapable of laughter, but the rippling sound in Martin Brenner’s mind carried much the same meaning. “Emotional attachment is a weakness of your kind, Silver-Hair. I do not believe that it is a weakness you share.”

Brenner shrugged. Though the gesture wasn’t visible through the connection, its intent carried over into his thoughts. “She remains of interest to my research. I would study the child further. Then you may have her.”

“I _will_ kill the Adversary, Silver-Hair.”

“You will. But not today. That was part of our agreement. I have provided you a Gate. You may pass through to this world and you will be invulnerable while it stands open. I expect that you will honor your end of our arrangement in return.”

Surging emotion, untranslatable, rolled through Brenner’s mind. “Once I am through the Gate, I will no longer need it,” the Mind Flayer said. “With the presence of a Void Well in this region, I do not need a Gate to survive.”

“True. But if the Gate is closed, your form becomes vulnerable, even with the Void Well. You could be… killed. An open Gate remains of great value to you – as does our alliance.”

There was more turbulence in the connection.

“Do we have an accord?” Brenner asked.

“We have an accord,” the Mind Flayer said. “But if the Adversary threatens Me again, I will kill her.”

The creature dissolved the connection. Dr. Brenner took off the skullcap and left the room.

Grigori was waiting in the tunnel outside. Fluorescent lights flickered in the cool, dark passage.Condensation dripped down walls hewn from living rock. Grigori joined Dr. Brenner and the two men walked together.

“What did the creature say, Doctor?” Grigori asked at last.

“The Entity said it would leave Eleven be.”

“Do you believe it?”

Dr. Brenner didn’t say anything as they walked into the enormous cave that housed the Gate. The great red and black opening glowed on the far cavern wall. The gate machine hulked in the middle of the cavern and fired twisting arcs of power into the portal. Technicians hunched over controls or scurried about, tending to the machine’s spinning, twisting gears.

“Do I believe it?” Dr. Brenner said at last. “Of course not.“

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

They all gathered in the dining room that morning. Only El was missing, still in bed and sleeping off the effects of the Russian’s drug.

A part of Will envied his sister.He wasn’t looking forward to this.

Ordinarily they’d have this kind of session in the living room, but most of the furniture there had been destroyed. Jonathan and Steve had nailed plywood over the hole in the wall, but that didn’t stop Will’s mother from heaving deep sighs every time she looked at it.

Right now, Joyce wasn’t sighing. She was ranting. Will watched his mother deliver a furious, finger-pointing tirade, mostly into Dr. Owens’ face. He wasn’t the only victim. Jonathan had taken some lashings, and so had Steve, Mike, Dustin and Lucas. Will, needless to say, had been spared.

Will was grateful not to be a target of his mother’s rage. He was still frustrated that she thought even a harsh word would make him break.

“…and let’s talk about the Russian!” Will’s mother shouted at Dr. Owens. “How is he here? How is he even _alive_?”

“I don’t know, Joyce,” Dr. Owens said. Sam Owens was no wilting flower. He was a little defensive, but he didn’t shy away from Joyce’s rage the way the rest of them had. “I told you, I met the guy for the first time when he was kicking my ass last night. I don’t know what he’s doing here.”

“Are you sure it’s the same guy, Mom?” Jonathan asked warily.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she hissed. “I’ll _never_ forget that face. He was the one who chased us last year. He was the one who fought Hopper. He was there when the gate machine exploded and killed Hop—” she stopped abruptly. She swallowed hard. When she spoke again her voice was quiet. “He was there when I killed Hopper.” 

“Mom,” Jonathan said, but she waved him away, one hand to her mouth.

“It was him,” she said. “The Russian.He was _there_. And now he’s alive. Maybe Hopper…” Her voice trailed off.

They were all quiet. Jonathan and Will exchanged worried glances.

Then Mike spoke up. “Maybe Mrs. Byers is right. Maybe it _is_ the same guy. Who knows what could have happened when the gate machine exploded?” He turned to Dr. Owens. “You told us you didn’t find any bodies, right? Not Hopper’s or the Russian’s?”

“That is what I said,” Dr. Owens murmured.

“So maybe something happened to save them,” Mike said. “We’re talking about alternate dimensions, after all. Maybe they somehow got pulled through the Gate before the explosion and they survived. Maybe they traveled through a breach in spacetime? Something like that.”

There was a glass of water in front of Mike, and he picked it up and drank. Will watched his friend’s throat work, Adam’s apple bobbing. There was something fascinating about the flicker of Mike’s tongue when the boy licked his lips.

Will realized he was staring and jerked his eyes away.

_Goddamn, what’s the matter with you?_

“Do you think that’s possible?” Joyce asked Dr. Owens.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Owens said. “I don’t know. Anything’s possible, I suppose, when it comes to this stuff. But all we’ve got to go on right now is a couple of odd facts and one kid’s theory about interdimensional travel and spacetime distortions.” He turned to Mike. “No offense.”

“None taken,” said Mike, an edge in his voice.

“So are you sure it was him?” Dr. Owens asked Joyce again. “I mean, who knows? Maybe there’s a lot of Russians who look like this guy.”

“From the sound of it, there’s an Austrian who looks like this guy,” Dustin said. Steve shushed him.

Joyce stabbed the table with her finger. “It. Was. Him.”

“Okay,” Dr. Owens said, throwing up his hands. “Okay. So it was him. I still don’t know what to tell you, Joyce. Like I say, I never saw the guy before last night. As far as I know, he’s just another one of Dr. Brenner’s goons.”

“Dr. Brenner?” Lucas asked.

Owens rolled his eyes, realizing what he’d just done.

“Dr. Brenner is _alive_?” Mike hissed.

“Jesus Christ, are you kidding me?” Dustin shouted.

“Who’s Dr. Brenner?” Max asked.

Mike gripped the table so hard his knuckles were white. “He’s the psycho who tortured El in that lab for twelve years.”

“He gave El her powers,” Dustin explained. “He’s kind of her origin story, I guess. Like a radioactive spider.”

“Except he’s a real spider,” Lucas said. “The guy’s a total sociopath.”

Dr. Owens raised an eyebrow at that. “That’s a good description, kid. And yes, before you ask again, Brenner is alive and kicking and stirring up all kinds of trouble.”

“El,” Mike gasped, “what’s El going to think when she finds out?”

Joyce and Dr. Owens exchanged glances.

“El knows,” Joyce said sadly.

“She knows?” Mike asked, confused.

“She found out a couple of years ago,” Joyce confessed. “Right around the time she closed the Gate. She met some people from… the Lab… who told her Brenner was alive. I knew about it. Hopper did too.”

Mike looked bewildered. Will could tell the boy was surprised that El had never told him. Then Mike shook his head, clearly dismissing his own concerns. “Well, if Brenner’s alive and that Russian is working for him, El’s in danger! We have to find out what he’s up to and stop him!”

“Easy, kid,” said Dr. Owens. “I’m a few steps ahead of you there.”

“You know what he’s up to?” asked Steve.

“I do,” Owens replied. “Most of it. I’ve been chasing Brenner for over a year. This young man,” he pointed at Mike, “gave me the final piece last night when we were walking back to the house. He told me what you found when you were out sailing yesterday. More importantly, he told me _where_ you found it.”

Joyce frowned. “What did you find when you were out sailing yesterday?”

Will put his head in his hands. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

* * *

It took them a while to calm Joyce down. She was horrified by the tale of the boiling fish, and went into hysterics when they told her about the demogorgon climbing aboard the _Enola Holmes_. She was positively frantic when she heard about the battle on the boat and Will killing the creature with a flare gun.

Joyce took Will in her arms, crying and stroking his hair. At one point she threatened to never let him out of the house, much less on a boat again. She berated Jonathan and Steve for being ‘stupid numbnuts’ and then she put her head on the table and sobbed.

Will hugged his mother until she was quiet. She finally sat up and wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Byers,” Mike said. “We’ll take better care of Will next time.”

Will was so tired of the kid gloves. _I’m not going to break, Mike_, he shouted in his head.

Just in his head, though.

Once Joyce was calm, Dr. Owens laid it out for them.

“Brenner was reassigned after Eleven opened the Gate in 1983. He’d made too much noise and there was too much collateral damage. After Eleven closed the Gate the next year, the United States government officially ended all work relating to the interdimensional portal and transdimensional biologies.”

“What?” said Steve.

“The Gate and the Upside Down,” Dustin whispered to him.

“But that didn’t actually stop the work, did it?” Mike said bitterly.

“No,” Dr. Owens agreed. “It did not. The US government… what can I say? It’s not a monolith. There are… factions… within the US government.”

“You mean Democrats and Republicans?” Dustin asked.

“You’re a cute kid,” said Dr. Owens. “No. Look, after every election, a new crop of political appointees go to DC and they sit in some offices there for a few years. They come and they go. The dirty little secret of our government is that those people don’t have any power. They don’t really decide _anything_. A lot of what the government does is decided by people who are more… permanent, you know?”Owens smiled casually.“People like me.”

Those three words were so simple but there was a strange air of menace about them.There was silence in the room. 

Will looked at Dr. Owens carefully. The man was stout, his black hair streaked with grey. He was a friendly man, jovial and warm. You expected him at any moment to say, “Aw, shucks.”

There was something else though. Something lurked underneath his gentle facade, something that peeked through now and then. It revealed itself in a look or a turn of phrase or a sharpness in his voice.

Under his sheep’s clothing were the shining predator eyes of a big, bad wolf.

In the quiet stillness of that room, Will realized that he had probably never met a man more effective or more dangerous than Dr. Sam Owens.

“Hey, do you guys have a soda or something?” Dr. Owens asked. “My throat’s getting parched. Actually, I’d love a Fanta if you have one.”

“I think we have some New Coke,” Jonathan said. “I’ll get you one.”

“New Coke?” Owens pulled a face. “Well, beggars, choosers, right? It’s a shame. No one ever has a Fanta.”

Beverage in hand, Dr. Owens continued. “Anyway, these factions within the government… some of them agreed with the official decision regarding what you call ‘the Upside Down.’ Some didn’t. Dr. Brenner went to work for one of the factions that disagreed.”

“What do you mean?” asked Joyce. “Like the CIA? The NSA?”

“You’re not following me. The CIA and the NSA aren’t monoliths either. The factions are _inside_ them. And _across_ them. They’re not formal. You can’t find them on an org chart. They’re… let’s just say they’re informal alignments of like-minded people in positions of power. The people Dr. Brenner works for believe that we should continue to investigate the Upside Down and turn it to our advantage.”

“Well, who cares what they believe?” Max snapped. “The government said it has to stop. Why don’t we just tell the authorities?”

“Kid, aren’t you listening? These _are_ the authorities. This is black ops stuff. Black budget stuff. The money is untraceable and unreported, a single line in a government budget that no one ever questions or investigates. The people doing this stuff work in offices like the Department of Agriculture and the Department of Energy and they work on things that have nothing to do with agriculture and energy. There is nothing to shut down, because as far as the official United States government is concerned, it doesn’t exist. It _can’t_ exist.”

“Then we tell the press!” Jonathan said. “We bring it to the papers.”

Dr. Owens shook his head sadly. “Kid, didn’t you ever see _Three Days of the Condor?_ They won’t print it.”

“Fine,” Mike said angrily. “The government won’t act against Brenner and the press won’t expose him. That’s fine. Then _we’ll_ shut him down. Tell us where he is and what he’s doing and we’ll go put a stake in this fucking vampire.”

“Mike!” Joyce was clearly shocked by the boy’s language, though she seemed to share his sentiment.

Dr. Owens smiled. “You’ve got spirit, kid. I’ll give you that.”

“Where is he and what is he doing?” Mike repeated grimly.

Dr. Owens’ smile vanished and his eyes narrowed. “Okay, kid. I’ll tell you. Your old pal Dr. Brenner has found a way to talk to the Upside Down.”

Will felt his heart sink into his stomach.

“He’s been working with the Russians to open a Gate,” Owens continued. “Based on yesterday’s events, I think it’s safe to say he succeeded.”

The only sound was the Party shifting uneasily in their chairs.

“As for _where_ all this is happening,” Dr. Owens said, “well, you’re the one who told me, Mike. You’re the one who told me.”

* * *

Mike stared at Dr. Owens across the dining room table, his mind working furiously.

Dr. Brenner was alive and working with the Russians. He was allied with the Upside Down. He’d opened a Gate.It all boiled down to one thing in Mike’s mind.

El was in danger.

A little voice whispered to him. _El knew Brenner was alive. She knew two years ago._

_She didn’t tell you._

Mike stomped on the voice, hard.

Dr. Owens regarded him from across the table. “I’ve been keeping track of you, kid. You’re a pretty impressive guy.”

The room was quiet. Mike was surprised. The conversation was tense, but he still would have expected some jokes and ribbing from his friends after that. But everyone was quiet.They all looked at him, and Dr. Owens, and they were quiet.

“We keep a record on you, did you know that?” Dr. Owens said. “All of your friends too, but the file on you is pretty thick. Not as thick as Eleven’s, but hey, superheroes, am I right?”

Mike didn’t say anything. Neither did anyone else.

“Remember Halloween night, when El closed the Gate?That was a big one for you. I’ve still got the After Action Report. I should let you read it some time.‘Endgame would have failed without the late intervention of Wheeler comma M.’ That’s a direct quote. My team and I got taken to the woodshed over that one, let me tell you.”

Dr. Owens shook his head, smiling wryly. “Everything that happened that night – defeating the Mind Flayer, Eleven closing the Gate – all of that happened because a thirteen-year old kid decided that he and his friends needed to get off the bench and into the game.”

Mike still didn’t say anything. He couldn’t imagine where to begin.

“I’ve got more,” Owens said. “I’ve got the reports on Starcourt. Whateley House. I’ve even got a post-mortem on the thing at the quarry back in ‘83. What were you, twelve?”

“I was twelve,” Mike said.

“Hey, he speaks.” Owens smiled. “Look, Mike, I appreciate your passion here. I know you do more heroic things before nine AM than most people do all day. But we’ve got this.”

“What do you mean, you’ve got this?” Joyce asked. It was impossible to miss the hostility in her voice.

“Brenner has a faction, and a black budget, and powerful allies,” Dr. Owens said. “He’s not the only one.”

“You’ve got a faction,” Dustin breathed.

Owens nodded. “Give the kid a prize. Some parts of the government want research into the Upside Down to continue. Some parts of the goverment… not so much. My sponsors believe that further work on this front will lead to outcomes that everyone – American, Soviet or otherwise – will come to regret.”

“What are you going to do?” Jonathan asked.

“Mike’s right,” Owens told him. “Someone needs to shut down Dr. Brenner and his Russian allies. That’s where I come in.”

The Party exchanged glances.

“I’ve been tracking Brenner for a while,” Owens said. “I think I’ve figured out the broad strokes of his plan. He’s made contact with the Upside Down. He’s opened a Gate. And as far as I can tell, he’s helping the thing you call the Mind Flayer build a new body in this world.Something like what you fought at Starcourt last year.”

“Goddamn, I knew it,” Dustin breathed.

“The only piece I was missing is where. Mike filled that in for me last night.”

“Which means…?” Steve asked.

“Which means, we can isolate the potential area of Dr. Brenner’s operations to this coastal area, Shingleford Strand.”

“So?” Joyce said. Her tone was still harsh, angry not so much at Dr. Owens as the whole situation. “What, you’re going to go in there like Rambo and take them all out?”

Dr. Owens laughed. “Me personally?Not really my style. But like I said, I’ve got a black budget and assets of my own. Last night, I called some of those assets and they should be here tomorrow morning. These guys are ex-Special Forces, very tough hombres, and they’ve been trained to deal with… stranger scenarios.”

“Whoa,” Dustin and Lucas said in unison, clearly impressed.

“When my team arrives, we’ll recon the area, find Brenner’s base of operations, and launch a raid that will take him down.”

Owens smiled at Mike. “You did good work, kid. My team and I will take it from here. You and your friends had a pretty rough night. You should take the day off.”

* * *

As Dr. Owens made phone calls in the kitchen and Joyce badgered the man with questions, Mike fumed.

“Mike, what’s the problem?” Will asked.

“I don’t buy it,” Mike said, pacing and watching Owens talk on the phone. “It’s too easy. He’s got a commando team and they’re going to launch a raid? It’s never that simple.”

“Mike,” said Lucas, “maybe this time it is.”

“I’ve got a feeling Owens knows what he’s doing,” Will said.

“You heard him,” Mike snapped. “If I’d taken that attitude on Halloween, the whole thing would have failed.” He shook his head angrily. “I’m glad the adults are finally putting some skin in the game. But there’s no way I’m going to leave this to them. Not when El’s life is at stake.”

The Party looked at one another. Steve sighed and so did Dustin.

“What’s your plan, Mike?” Steve said at last.

“I don’t have one yet,” Mike said. “But I will. We still need to go into research mode. Me, Will, Lucas and Dustin are going to the library. Steve, Max and El can get supplies once El feels a little better.”

“Uh…” Lucas said, “I think I should help with the supplies, actually.”

“Oh?” Max said in exaggerated surprise, “why exactly do you think that, Stalker?”

“Max,” Lucas sighed. The two of them moved off to a corner, bickering quietly.

“Anyone else?” Mike said, almost a challenge.

“Um… I’m going to stay here with Dart,” Dustin said. “I’m worried that if I leave him by himself he’ll eat the dog. Or Joyce.”

Mike thought that was a fair point. “Okay, makes sense. You keep an eye on things here. Will and I will go to the library and see what we can find out.” Mike gripped Will by the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

Will gave Mike a weak smile. He looked oddly uncomfortable.

“Just you and me, Mike,” Will said.

* * *

Mike quietly opened the door to Eleven’s bedroom and stepped inside. The blinds were drawn but did little to keep out the morning light. El was lying on her side, snoring. They weren’t big, rasping honks, but tiny princess snores, barely more than a breath. Mike couldn’t help smiling. Even El’s snoring was adorable.

She had kicked out of the covers and they were tangled around her sleeping form. Her night shirt had hitched up and Mike could see her pretty, pink cotton panties. He sighed, allowed himself two perverted seconds to take in the view, and then he gently rearranged the covers and tucked them under her chin. El snuggled into her pillow, murmuring quietly to herself.

Mike had to talk to her. Dr. Owens said she’d still sleep for a while, so there probably wasn’t enough time this morning. If Mike was lucky, he might be able to tell her a few words, enough to reassure her that she was gorgeous and he loved her. Tonight, they’d need to have a real heart to heart. Mike needed to come clean.

He shifted uncomfortably. This would probably be the end. He’d let her see who he really was. She’d be gentle about the whole thing, no doubt, because she was very sweet. But from here on, Mike figured he could look forward to a wonderful relationship with El as _just friends_.

He didn’t know if he could take that.

Hell, it was what it was.

Mike wondered whether to tell her about Dr. Brenner or Hopper.He decided it was probably best to hit her with one shock at a time.

He didn’t want to tell her about Brenner until he had a plan to bring down that white-haired serpent. Mike wasn’t big on giving people problems, he preferred to give them solutions.

He also wasn’t sure it would be right to tell El about Hopper. There was no guarantee her father was actually alive. Mike’s speculations were just that – a theory, a possibility, based on some unusual facts. It would be wrong to get El’s hopes up over such a slim chance. If he did, and it turned out to be nothing, it would be like killing Hopper all over again. She’d be devastated, and Mike couldn’t bear that.

Mike checked his watch. He had another hour or so before the library opened. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend the time than sitting next to El’s bed while she slept.

He scanned her bookshelf for something to read. She had a few books on ships and sailing and the sea. She had a surprising number of the Sherlock Holmes stories. Mike knew she’d become a fan of the great detective, even if her lack of formal education made it harder to follow the plot twists.

Mike’s eyes fell on another book and he picked it up, smiling. _The Lord of the Rings_. He’d given her this one.

It was one of his favorite books. He hadn’t been sure she would read it. As he looked at the thick paperback, with its cracked binding and heavily dog-eared pages, he realized she hadn’t just read it, she’d read it more than once.

He pulled El’s desk chair over to her bed and sat down with the book. He flicked through the pages. El had marked up the text and scribbled notes in the margins. 

Her handwriting wasn’t very good. She’d spent the first twelve years of her life being tortured in a government lab and penmanship hadn’t been high on her agenda. Still, Mike had exchanged hundreds of pages of letters with her after she moved to Bath and he didn’t have any trouble reading her awkward scrawls.

She’d circled words she didn’t understand and put question marks next to them. There were a lot of those. Sometimes she’d circled whole paragraphs or scenes and simply written, _Ask Mike_. He scanned some of her notes. Next to the encounter with Shelob, she’d written, _Scary!_ Beside the battle with the Balrog, it said, _No! Gandalf!!!_On the travels through Mordor, there were the simple words, _Poor Gollum_. He blushed when he saw the note that read, _Mike = Aragorn, El = Arwen_. She’d put a smiley face next to that one.

On the title page, in the white space underneath Professor Tolkien’s name, El had written, _Mike gave me this_.

She’d drawn a heart underneath it.

Mike looked at her, sleeping quietly under her pink blankets. El shifted, murmuring again, but she didn’t wake. She was amazing, this wonderful girl who drew hearts and who seemed to love him, God knows why.

* * *

Dart sighed happily as the Provider rubbed his side. The human youngling had no talons to speak of, but there was something soothing about his light touch on Dart’s thick hide.

Dart had tried earlier to scratch against the wooden leg of the humans’ eating platform and that hadn’t worked out well. The platform had creaked alarmingly, causing the small, older female to start shrieking. The Provider quickly led Dart away with offers of the glorious mushy food that came wrapped in white and red foil.

Dart would need to go hunting soon. The mushy food was tasty but not enough to sustain him for long. He had considered other options and at one point approached the hairy, four-legged creature that the humans kept in their cave. Dart assumed the humans were raising it for food, but the Provider got very agitated and the adult female started caterwauling again.Dart reluctantly let the hairy thing be.

Humans were not easy to understand, and now they were his Hive.

Well, apostates couldn’t be choosers.

The humans’ cave was substandard, in Dart’s opinion. There were no rocks for scratching, and no soothing drip of condensation from stalactites. There were no catch-pools of water for drinking, except for the strange white bowl that the humans kept in a side room.There wasn’t even a hook to hang prey on so it could be aged and seasoned.

Honestly, the creatures were savages.

The Hive was stirring in earnest. The humans had bathed and put on new feathers and ornamentation, an odd affectation of their kind. Dart assumed it had to do with the softness of their skin and the general frailty of their form.

With all the new activity, Dart decided it was a good time to depart for the hunt. He got to his feet just as a group of the human younglings approached him and the Provider. Dart regarded them warily.

There was the small male that Dart’s people called the One-Who-Was-Us. That human had once been blessed to be a carrier of God’s essence, and Dart sensed the experience had changed the boy in some way. Dart submitted to a quick pat from him.

There was the dark human youth as well, and the young female that Dart had dubbed Fire-Hair. They didn’t try to pet Dart but looked at him with interest, warbling in strange, high pitched communications with the Provider.

The Adversary was there too, swaddled in a full-length white garment that tied at the waist. She seemed to be moving slowly, attended by the black-haired male next to her.

Dart was honored by her presence. She was the mortal enemy of the One-Who-Was-All. Dart bent his forelegs and dipped his head in acknowledgement.There was an outburst of chatter from the humans. The Adversary briefly stroked Dart’s hide.Her touch was gentle.

Then the black-haired young male reached out his hand. Dart growled and the youth jerked back. Dart remembered the boy very well. He had chased Dart without mercy when Dart was just a tadpole under the care of the Provider.

If the boy was not so clearly the Adversary’s mate, Dart would have bitten his hand off.

Dart was frankly surprised by the Adversary’s choice of mates. Someone of her status surely had her pick of males. The black-haired youth seemed to be of poor stock. He was scrawny and he had a large proboscis that would break easily in combat.

Dart felt the Adversary could have done much better. She could have selected the Bat-Wielder or the dark-skinned young male, who seemed fit and strong and had no obvious attachment to any of the females in the cave. 

Regardless, the Adversary had clearly chosen the scrawny boy. The pheromones of attraction hung so heavy between them that Dart’s people would have called it rude. If two inhabitants of the Dark World had such obvious connection, they would go immediately to the High Caves to couple.But the humans, all of them, seemed oblivious to the situation. 

Dart was skeptical of the Adversary’s choice but he supposed it was hers to make. 

Dart’s sire once told him that in some things there is no logic.The eight-chambered heart wants what it wants.


	16. The Fireflies

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

They got back from Freeport in the early afternoon. El helped bring the supplies into the house and then slipped away to her bedroom. She needed to think.

She sat at her desk and stared at her picture of Mike. He was in his Ghostbusters costume from Halloween, two years ago. That had been during the 353 days they’d been apart. Mike had tried to call her on the Supercom every single night. Every single night El had listened, aching to tell him that she could hear him, that she was there, that she missed him.

That she loved him.

El traced her finger over his face. Her beautiful boy.

There was a knock on the door. It was Joyce.

“Sweetie,” Joyce said sadly, “we need to talk.”

* * *

El cried when Joyce told her about Hopper.

After so many months, El had finally let her father go. She’d gotten to a place where she could think about him and feel happiness instead of despair. Hearing that he might be alive filled her with so much hope and pain, she couldn’t stop the tears.

El didn’t know what to think when Joyce told her about Dr. Brenner. El had known Papa was alive for two years now. She knew she would have to deal with that someday. It seemed she would have to deal with it now.

The thought chilled her heart.

El hated Papa. She was afraid of him.

Some part of her loved him.

As a little girl, she’d wanted Papa to love her. El tried so hard to please him, treasuring every smile and gentle word that she could win from him.She dreamed that one day this stern, cold, quiet man would laugh with her, that they’d play together and walk hand in hand in the sunshine.It never happened. He never did love her, but it really didn’t matter. For the first twelve years of her life, he was all she had.

As a little girl, she’d wanted to be loved. She’d wanted to give love, too. Love stirs inside every person and it has to go somewhere. For the first twelve years of El’s life, Papa was the only place her love could go.

Until she met Mike Wheeler on a dark night in the rain, Papa was the closest thing to love she’d ever known.

El didn’t cry over Papa. She thought.

She didn’t know what she would do when she saw him again.In Chicago two years ago, just the image of him made her curl up and cry.

She was older now. She was stronger. Her powers were gone but she was stronger _inside_. The next time she saw Papa, it would be different.She was done with curling up and crying.

El sat on her bed for the rest of the afternoon. She didn’t do much except stare at the wall. She kept turning things over in her head.

Papa was near.

Hopper might be alive.

Mike wanted to die.

The sun was setting when she heard Jonathan’s car roll up the driveway and stop in front of the house. There was the sound of the car doors slamming.

Mike was home.

* * *

El was waiting in the living room when Mike, Will and Jonathan walked in the front door. Jonathan went into the kitchen to help his mother with dinner. Mike circled the rest of the Party together.

“Is Dr. Owens here?” Mike asked. El shook her head. Owens had left earlier in the day.

Mike nodded, satisfied. He kept an eye on the kitchen, wanting to make sure Joyce didn’t hear.“Will and I had a big day,” he told them all in a soft voice. He gestured at two leather-bound tomes the boys were carrying.“After Mrs. Byers goes to sleep tonight, we need to have a meeting. There’s a lot to do.”

Max looked skeptical and Steve was wary, but they all nodded. If Mike said they needed a meeting, then they needed a meeting.

As they all gathered at the dinner table, Mike caught El’s eye.

“El,” he said softly, “can we talk tonight? After dinner? Just you and me?”

“Yes,” she said, her heart skipping a beat.

This was _the talk_, she thought. Mike would tell her what was wrong and they would work through it and everything would be okay.

Wouldn’t it?

* * *

Dinner was rice and stir-fry, a Joyce specialty. It was one of El’s favorites but tonight she just picked at it. She didn’t have any appetite. She kept looking at Mike, her stomach knotted up with nerves.

Eventually the meal was done and everyone pushed their plates away. El helped Will and Jonathan wash the dishes. Then she joined the Party in the living room, where they were watching _The Thing_ on the Byers’ brand new television. Dr. Owens had bought it for them that very day. It was an amazing thing, 32 inches, state of the art with rich deep color. There was even a remote control. The Byers never could have afforded it on their own.

Most of the Party sat on the floor. Dr. Owens had ordered them some new furniture but it wouldn’t be delivered until the next morning.

El sat on the couch next to Mike. As the opening credits rolled, he nervously took her hand.

“Is now okay?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she said softly. They got up from the couch and quietly stole away. Their friends might have noticed but no one said anything.

* * *

El was relieved when Mike led her outside. They could have gone to her bedroom, but the memories of the night before were too fresh. She didn’t want to be reminded of Russians and demogorgons and crying on her bed feeling rejected and alone. She and Mike needed to start again, somewhere new.

It was dark but the moon was full, casting pale silver light that made it easy to see. Mike held El’s hand as he led her through the backyard and out to the tree line. Fireflies danced in the night, pulsing with pale yellow light. It was like the stars were floating around them. It was warm and peaceful and one of the most beautiful nights El had ever seen.

Mike led her to a small copse of trees and they sat down in the thick grass. The moonlight lit their features in silver, and the pulsing lanterns of the fireflies brushed on a golden glow.

Mike had never looked more beautiful. El marveled at his lovely brown eyes, the delicate point of his chin, the high arc of his cheekbones. She could look at him forever.

“El,” he began, but then he hesitated and his voice trailed off.It seemed to El he was wrestling with something in his head.He looked so serious and sad, it broke her heart.

“What is it, Mike?” she asked gently.

_Don’t hate yourself, Mike_, she begged in her mind. _You’re so lovely. You’re so special. Share your pain with me. Let me take it away_.

“El,” he said, “I want you to understand what happened last night. I need you to know, it didn’t have anything to do with you. El, it was all me.”

She reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand. He closed his eyes and he sighed.

“Mike, what’s wrong?” she asked.

Mike opened his eyes and stared into hers, then he dropped his gaze to the grass.“I’ll show you,” he sighed. He had the resigned voice of a man going to his death.

Without another word, and without meeting her eyes, Mike began to unbutton his shirt.

El’s heart pounded. What was he doing?

The pale skin of his neck and chest flashed in the moonlight as he worked the buttons.

In a moment, his shirt was hanging open. Mike hesitated. Then he pulled the shirt from his shoulders and dropped it to the ground beside him.

El’s breath caught.

Mike’s porcelain skin gleamed in the moonlight. He was tense, his lean body taut like a bowstring.

He stared at the ground.

“This is me,” he said at last. There was an awkward, uncomfortable stiffness in his voice. “This is who I am.”

He wouldn’t look at her. He looked at the trees and the fireflies floating in the darkness. His eyes were wet and bright but he didn’t cry.

El has only seen Mike cry twice, both times out of love for her. He never cried for himself.

Her eyes glided over his slender arms, the delicate outline of his ribs, the hints of muscle on his arms and chest and belly. Mike’s muscles weren’t big like the action stars in the movies. They were subtle and graceful.

He was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen.

“Oh Mike,” she whispered.

He kept his eyes on the ground.

She remembered Lucas’ words. _Mike looks in the mirror and it’s like he’s in a funhouse_.

She reached out and ran her hand over the bare skin of his shoulder. She stroked his pale chest, his skin glowing in the silvery light.

Then she leaned in and kissed him on the collarbone. She placed another soft kiss on his chest.

“El?” he whispered.

“Mike,” she said, sitting up, still stroking his soft skin, “you’re beautiful.”

“How can you think—” he started but she pressed a finger to his lips. She ran her other hand lightly over his ribs.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

“El…” He stared into her eyes. She hoped he could see the love there. She hoped he could see that her soul yearned to be joined with his.

Finally Mike smiled, just a little smile, crooked and self-mocking. “Handsome,” he said. “Men are supposed to be handsome.”

El shook her head. “You’re beautiful, Mike. Handsome… it’s not enough.” She waved her hands, trying to find the right way to express it. “Beautiful is… more.”

She rose up on her knees, hugging him against her. She tangled a hand in his raven locks, stroking his back with the other. She pillowed his head against her breasts.

Mike sighed. He seemed content.

Holding him against her that way, El could see the bruise on his back. It was a big blotch of purple and yellow on his right side.

A little piece of her died.

“Mike,” she whispered.

She released him and moved to his side, getting a better look. Mike started to shy away but then realized it was too late. He sat quietly as El leaned close, delicately tracing her finger around the outline of the bruise.

“Mike, how did you get this?” she asked. A hot current of anger rippled up inside her.

“It’s nothing,” Mike told her. “I must have got it from the Russian last night. Or maybe when we were playing Five Hundred in the park.”

El had gotten enough bruises in the Lab to know that this one was almost a week old.

Mike was lying.

El knew why. She wasn’t angry at him for lying. She was sad.

Mike didn’t want to be a burden. He wanted to deal with it by himself. He didn’t want to worry her.

“Friends don’t lie,” she told Mike softly.

The black-haired boy hesitated, then gave in. He shrugged. “I get into fights at school sometimes. People try to push me around and I don’t just let them do it. It’s not a big deal. It’s kid stuff.”

She stared at the bruise, her heart in pieces.

“It’s actually good,” Mike joked.He tried to chuckle but it was forced and hollow.“I mean, I fight supernatural terrors that are actually trying to kill me. This is good training. Nothing like a schoolyard fight to get in shape.”

That’s what he was like. He got beat up and he said it was no problem. He made a joke about it. He said it was a good thing.

The bruise looked awful and must have hurt terribly.

_This is what he didn’t want me to see_, she thought. _That day in the park. This is why he yelled at me and walked away._

_He wanted to hide it, so I didn’t know someone had hurt him._

_Oh Mike.Share your pain with me.You don’t have to hide_.

She kissed the bruise, softly. Mike didn’t flinch. He gave a little sigh.

She kissed it again, then kissed her way up his back. She shuffled around on her knees, folded him in her arms, and kissed his lips while he hugged her against him.

The words echoed in her mind._You don’t have to hide_.

El broke away from Mike and sat cross-legged in the grass across from him.

She stared at his beautiful face and looked into his dark eyes.

She started to unbutton her shirt.

Mike’s eyes flicked down to her small hands and then back up to her face. His gaze kept moving, back and forth, as she opened all the buttons.

She pulled the shirt off and dropped it to the ground beside her.

She sat there before him in just her khaki shorts and her sandals and her pink lacy bra.

The bra was one of her favorites. It was pretty and it fit well and she thought it made her boobs look good.

Mike’s expression was pure wonder.

Still looking into his beautiful brown eyes, El reached back and unhooked her bra. She hesitated, then slid it off her narrow shoulders and dropped it at her side.

Now she did look away from him. She looked down. She couldn’t help it.

There they were. Her little cupcakes. Her breasts were round and perky and small, her nipples hard and puckered.

Mike was just staring, not saying anything. El glanced up at him and saw his eyes flicking between her face and her breasts.

Did he like them? He wasn’t saying anything.

He didn’t like them.

She couldn’t tell. She didn’t know.

Suddenly deeply embarrassed, El covered her breasts with one hand, reaching for her shirt with the other.“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

Mike blinked, as if coming out of a daze. He reached for her hand as she wrapped her fingers in the shirt. “El. No, please. I’m sorry. You’re gorgeous.” He gave her a lopsided, anxious smile. “I’m sorry. You’re just so beautiful that my mind shut down for a second. Please.”

El let him gently pull her hand away from the shirt. She dropped her other hand and sat up straight, letting Mike see her breasts in the moonlight.

She was so nervous she lost her words. All she could say was, “Pretty?”

Mike’s voice was gentle. “Yes. Pretty. Very pretty.”

El smiled, bashful and delighted. Mike smiled too.

“Beautiful,” he said. “ You’re beautiful, El.” There was a tone in his voice. She thought it sounded like love.

He hesitated. “Can I…?”

“Yes,” El said, her voice a little throaty.

Mike gently reached out, stroking his hand up her side, over her ribs. El held her breath. His hand closed over her breast.

It felt _so_ good. She bit her lower lip, trembling a little at the intimacy.

Mike’s fingers gently stroked the soft mound. His touch was almost reverent.

His thumb brushed her nipple. An electric shock of sensation ran straight to her core and she gasped.

Mike froze.

“Is it okay?” he asked, his voice filled with worry.

“Yes,” she said, melting at his concern for her. “It… feels good.”

Reassured, Mike cupped her breast more firmly. He stroked her nipple with his thumb again and she sighed. He caught it between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it between them. She sucked in a breath. “Mike,” she murmured.

Now he cupped her other breast and he was squeezing and stroking them both, gently pulling and teasing her nipples. El murmured his name again. Mike leaned in, his hands never leaving her breasts, and he kissed her. “El,” he whispered.

They kissed again and then his lips peppered her jawline until he reached her ear. His tongue licked across the soft shell of it and she shivered with delight. He gently licked at the sensitive spot below her ear and then kissed down her neck to her collarbone.

El’s breath was coming in short little pants. Mike kissed his way down the slope of her chest. His lips pressed into the soft mound of her breast. El pushed her hands into his hair, curling her fingers in those lovely black locks.

He kissed and licked around her nipple, not on it but around it, and she whimpered.

When Mike’s lips closed around her nipple she gasped. Then he sucked on it and her hands clenched. Her fingernails dug into his scalp and she groaned, “Mike.”

He caught her other breast in his hand, caressing it. Jolts of pleasure shot into El’s core, and when Mike gently scraped her nipple with his teeth, she whined his name. He sucked on the nipple hard for a moment, then kissed across to her other breast to give it his loving attention. El moaned as he covered her breast with his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth across her hard nub and then sucking on it.

She was damp between her legs.

Damp. Who was she kidding? She was _wet_.

El’s hips started gently rocking, involuntarily, wanting to grind against something. She remembered last night and shivered as she imagined what it would be like to grind against Mike’s hard erection as he worshipped her breasts with his mouth. She ached to sit in his lap and feel that hardness against her. 

But Mike had stopped them last night.She had to understand that.

El pulled back from him. Mike almost whimpered as her breast slipped away, wet and glistening from the attention of his lips and tongue.

“El,” he gasped, “is everything okay?” He looked so worried. He seemed terrified he’d done something wrong.

“Oh Mike,” she breathed. She kissed him, sucking his plump lower lip into her mouth, reassuring him. “Yes, everything’s okay. Everything is fine.”

She kissed him again, then moved back. He watched her, confused and nervous.

They sat there, cross-legged on the grass, their shirts lying next to them, their bare skin glowing in the soft moonlight. El gently pulled at a dandelion, its top folded closed for the night.

“Mike,” she said, “do you remember that thing we did last night? That… humping… thing?”

He nodded, still worried.

“Did you like it?” she asked.

Mike blushed, a lovely crooked smile crossing his face. “Um, yeah,” he said. “I definitely liked it.”

“Then why did you stop us?”

“What?” he asked, but his eyes shifted away from her.

“Mike,” she chided softly. “You stopped us from doing it. You were very sweet. But I could tell. You didn’t want us to do that.”

“El…” he said. His voice trailed off.

She waited but he didn’t say anything more.“Mike,” she asked quietly, “do you want to do sex with me?”

She didn’t say it as an offer or an invitation. She said it as a question. She wanted to know. Was it something he was interested in?

Mike stared at her for a moment, wide-eyed, and then he blurted, “Yes! Yes, of course!”

El felt a marvelous flip-flop in her stomach.

_Yes. Of course_.

Mike wanted to do sex with her.

But that didn’t make any sense.

Very softly she asked, “Then why did you stop us?”

“El,” he said. “El… I… it’s complicated.”

“Okay,” she said. She watched him, waiting patiently for him to explain.

“El, sex is… it’s a big step, you know? When two people have sex, it’s important. It means something.” Then Mike shook his head.“I mean, it’s supposed to. For some people it doesn’t mean anything, I guess.They just do it and it’s no big deal. But I don’t think that’s right. It _should_ mean something.”

El remembered what Max had told her. “Sex is special. You should only do sex with someone who’s special,” she said.

Mike nodded. “That’s right.”

“Mike,” she said, “you’re special.”

He looked at her, and the expression on his face was… love. _That’s what love looks like_, El thought.

“El,” he asked, “how much do you know about sex?”

She shrugged.“Not much. Not anything really. I mean a little from school and talking to Max. That’s all.”

Mike nodded, thinking. El gave him an inquiring look. Now it was his turn to shrug. “I know a little about it.Not a lot. I mean, the same things you’ve heard. I’ve talked to people about it. I’ve seen pictures, like in magazines and things. But I mean, I’ve never done it.It’s all kind of theoretical.”

“Oh,” she said.

“And the thing is, El – I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Take advantage of me?”

“Well, because of how you grew up, you’re kind of… innocent.” Mike pulled at the grass next to him, trying to find the words to explain. “About some things, anyway. There are things other girls know that you never had a chance to learn. I don’t want to take advantage of the fact that you don’t know a lot about sex and do something that you’re going to regret later.”

“We’re kind of young, El,” he continued. “A lot of people wait until they’re older to have sex, because it is such a big deal. I don’t want to rush you into something that will make you sad some day.”

_Oh Mike_. Even in this, her beautiful boy was trying to look out for her and not himself.

He wasn’t finished. “And, you know, I want it to be good for you. It’s really easy for guys to get off during sex—"

“Get off?” El asked. Sex seemed to have so many terms, it was hard to keep track of them all.

“Um, get off, you know? Come?”

“Oh,” El said. “Right. _Orgasm_.”

“Um, yeah.That’s easy for guys. I’ve heard it can be harder for girls. And you know, if we do it, I want to make sure that it’s really good for you.”

El looked at him carefully. Mike was very nervous, bouncing his knee, fidgeting his hands, not looking in her eyes.

Max had told her that when a boy wanted to do sex, he would do as much as he could, as fast he could.

El really liked Max. But El was starting to think that Max really didn’t know very much about boys.

“Mike,” El asked softly, “are you scared to do sex?”

He looked at her in shock. He struggled for words, looking like he wanted to deny it, and then he went still. He sighed. “Not scared, exactly,” he said. “I’m nervous though. I mean, it’s a big step, El. And you’re the most important thing in my life. I don’t want to screw it up.”

The words echoed in her head, again and again. _You’re the most important thing in my life_.

Her heart ached with love for this wonderful boy.

“How about you?” Mike asked. “Are you scared to have sex?”

“I don’t know,” El admitted. “I don’t know anything about it. I don’t know what to think. I’m nervous.But I know anything I do with you will be good, Mike.”

They were quiet for a while, sitting there in the grass with the wind and the trees and the fireflies. Mike took her hand. He gently stroked her fingers.

“Mike,” El asked, “do you remember the Snowball?”

“Of course,” he said. “It was one of the best nights of my life.”

She blushed at that. It was silly, she thought, she was sitting here, outside, with her top off and her breasts bare in the moonlight, and it was Mike saying the Snowball was one of the best nights of his life that made her blush.

“Do you remember how neither one of us knew how to dance?” El asked. “And we were nervous? But we decided to figure it out together?”

“I remember,” he murmured.

“And we started slow,” she said. “We didn’t try anything hard. We just went slow and we helped each other figure it out.”

“That’s right,” he said. Mike raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. His eyes never left hers.

“Maybe we just start slow, Mike?”

He smiled. It was a soft, gentle smile. “I think that would be nice,” he told her.

They leaned together and they kissed. Her nipples brushed his bare chest and the feeling was just exquisite.

El looked down bashfully. “Mike, that thing we did last night… do you want to try it again?”

“Um…”

“Is that too fast?” she worried.

“No, El, it’s just…” He sighed. He seemed like he was trying to make a decision.He took a deep breath. “El, the other reason I stopped us last night… you were going to make me come.”

“I was?” she gasped. She was delighted.

“Um, yeah,” he said.

Now she was confused. “Why did you want me to stop? I thought it was good to come.”

“Well it’s… it’s embarrassing, El,” Mike said. “It’s every guy’s worst nightmare, to come in his pants in front of his girlfriend because he’s so worked up. We’re supposed to be able to last longer. You know, make sure she has a good time.”

She digested that. “I was having a good time, Mike.”

“Well, I mean – a guy should at least last until his girlfriend comes.” He hesitated. “Plus, it’s kind of… messy. You know, it’s like all wet and sticky. I was afraid it would surprise you or gross you out or something.”

“Wet and sticky,” El repeated. She thought for a moment and then she nodded, smiling. “Because of the sperm.”

She made the jerking motion and the spurting noise that Max had showed her earlier.

Mike’s eyes widened.He sank his face into his hand. “Oh my god,” he said.

“Mike?” His reaction was a little worrying.

“That’s right, El,” he said at last. “Because of the sperm.”

El was quiet for a moment and then she said, “Mike, I get messy too.”

He raised his face from his hand. “What?” he asked.

“Down there,” she said, blushing. “When we do things. I get messy too. I get... wet. And kind of slippery.”

Mike’s eyes were wide and he was staring at her. The look on his face was a mix of shock, wonder and… delight.

She’d been worried he’d think it was gross. He didn’t look grossed out at all.

Just in case, she quickly said, “And it’s not pee, Mike. Max told me it was normal. Like getting a boner. Except for girls.”

“Oh my god, El,” Mike breathed and he was _definitely_ not grossed out.

“So, Mike,” she said, looking at the ground, reaching out to lightly stroke his hand, “if I get messy and you get messy, maybe… that’s okay?”

He smiled, that same soft, gentle smile. “Maybe that’s okay,” he said. He wrapped her hand in his and now he looked at the ground.

“Maybe we can try it again?” she asked hesitantly.

“Maybe we can try it again,” Mike said.“I mean – if you want to, El. Only if you want to.”

“I want to,” she said shyly.

“Okay,” he said, nervous and happy all at once. He cleared his throat.“And I’ll try to hold back, you know? If I get worked up and I need to calm down, I’ll let you know and maybe we can stop for a little and then start again?”

“Okay,” El said.

Then there was an awkward silence as they just sat there in the moonlight, holding hands.

“What do we do?” El asked. “How – how should we start?”

Mike shifted, clearly feeling awkward himself. “Do you want to kiss?” he asked her at last.

“Yes, Mike,” she smiled. Leave it to him to figure it out. He always knew what to do. “Let’s kiss.”

They scooted closer together, there in the grass and the moonlight and the fireflies. Their legs touched. El leaned in and Mike leaned in and they kissed.

Her nipples brushed his chest again and it was delicious.

His lips were so soft.

When his tongue stroked against hers it was like velvet.

I’m going to leak right out of my panties, El thought, and then it wasn’t awkward at all, and she was lost in the taste of him. There was nothing but his lips and his tongue and her breasts against his chest and all she could think was, _This is Mike_.

Their kiss deepened. It wasn’t like last night, so hard and aggressive and maybe too much. It was loving, and sweet, and it made her ache for him. He cupped her breasts. He stroked her nipples and the pleasure of it made her whimper.

“Mike,” she breathed.

“El,” he whispered back and then she swung her leg over him and settled into his lap.

He was so hard. The firm pressure against her took her breath away and she groaned into his mouth.

“Oh god, Mike,” she gasped. Her hips rocked against him and now it was Mike who groaned.

Her hips moved, setting that wonderful rhythm that sent pleasure rippling through her, again and again. She felt Mike’s throbbing hardness against her wet softness, and it almost made El cry that the world could be this good. It was a gift to feel this way, and it was Mike, her beautiful, brilliant boy, who made her feel it.

“Mike,” she whispered and she licked his ear. It wasn’t a delicate lick, it was wet and sloppy, and Mike didn’t seem to mind in the least.

He grabbed her butt with both hands and pushed her hard against his boner. It hit her in just the right place and she squealed.

“Keep doing that,” she gasped.“Oh, Mike, keep doing that.”

“El,” Mike groaned. His teeth nipped lightly at her neck. “God damn.”

She couldn’t control her hips if she tried. She humped against Mike hard, delighting in the feel of him. The swollen ridge of his erection drove jolts of pleasure through her. She couldn’t think. She could barely remember her name.

Through a haze of pleasure, she realized that Mike was whispering something. She had just enough presence of mind to process it. “…armor class 5. Hit dice 1 + 1. Alignment is lawful evil…”

“Mike?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

Then his hard-on pushed right into her center and she almost passed out from the feel of it.

“I’m okay, El,” he gasped. “It’s so good.”

“Mike,” she choked out and then she didn’t think she could say anything else.

Mike stopped whispering and his fingers clenched on her butt. _Oh, Mike_, she moaned in her head, _I hope you like that big ass_.

It seemed like he did. Her hips flashed back and forth over his boner and Mike just urged her on. He was breathing hard against her neck and she was panting like she’d run a mile.

“El,” he groaned. “God, you’re amazing.”

“Mike,” she whimpered.

The ache and the tension and the pressure inside her was unstoppable. It was rippling up from her core like a volcano. It was pleasure and pure intensity.Whatever it was building to, it must be almost done.

It felt like the finish line was right there.

“Mike,” she whined.

“El,” Mike moaned.He seemed almost in pain. “El, we have to stop. You’re going to make me—”

“No,” she gasped. “Please.Don’t stop.”

“El,” he groaned. “El, you’re going to make me come.”

“I want you to,” she breathed in his ear. “Please Mike, I want you to. Please come for me.”

His voice was almost anguished. “El, oh fuck.”

He clutched her ass hard._I’m making Mike come_, El thought.It tipped her over the edge.

Her thoughts evaporated and her mind went blank.Something was happening to her and it was happening _right now_.

“Mike!” she gasped.

Then the world disintegrated and she couldn’t speak at all.

She was vaguely aware of her toes curling and pleasure coursing through her. Her stomach knotted up and she hunched over Mike’s slim, beautiful body.

Max was right. When you came, you knew it.

She felt like she was dissolving. The pleasure pulsed out from her center in waves, rippling out finally through her fingertips.

El was dimly aware of Mike groaning, but it faded into the shudders that shook her body. He lay back and pulled her down with him.She collapsed on top of him and she felt the grass under her fingers.

Mike was panting, wrecked and exhausted underneath her.

For a moment they just lay there, catching their breath. 

“Mike,” she whispered, “that was… amazing.” She kissed his chest. She had such love for this boy. He was beautiful and brilliant and brave and now he’d made her feel like _that_. She hadn’t dreamed that anything could be so good.

No wonder people did sex even if they didn’t want a baby.

Mike stroked her back and kissed her hair. “It was.It was amazing. El, you were just…” He struggled for words and then he said, “_wow_.”

She kissed his chest again. “So were you. You were _wow_.” She couldn’t stop kissing his porcelain skin. She felt overwhelmingly at peace, blanketed in love.

As she rested in his arms, she became aware that her panties were completely soaked. Her belly was wet, too.

“Mike,” she asked, “did you come?”

“I did,” he said softly.

She kissed his chest again. “I’m glad.”

“Did you?” he asked nervously.

“Yes,” she purred. “I did.”

“Thank god,” he said. He sounded relieved and proud and ridiculously happy.He kissed her hair again.

They lay there for a while, watching the fireflies dance in the night. Then El rolled off of him, lying on her side, propped up on her elbow so she could look at him. She gently stroked her fingers across his chest.

Mike’s jeans were damp where she had humped him. Some globs of thick, creamy liquid were smeared across his stomach, right below his navel. El realized some of it was on her too, where their bellies had pressed together.

“Sorry,” Mike said, embarrassed. “I guess I made a mess.”

“It’s okay,” she told him gently. “I did too.” She scooped some of the thick liquid off her belly. It was wet and sticky, just like Mike had said, and sort of gooey. She had an odd urge to taste it, to swallow it, so that this intimate part of Mike would be inside her, but she wasn’t sure what he would think about that. She wiped it back on her stomach.

Maybe she’d try it next time.

She was suddenly worried.There would be a next time, right?

“Mike,” she asked, shy and a little nervous. “Can we do that again sometime?”

A huge smile broke across his face. “Oh my god, El, we can do that any time you want.”

He looked so happy and she was so relieved that she couldn’t hold back a giggle. El kissed his lips then and snuggled against him. They lay together in the grass and Mike gently stroked her hair while she ran a finger over his chest.

“I love you, El,” Mike said at last.

“I love you, Mike.”

She did. She loved him and she’d never stop loving him.

This is what she wanted it to be like forever, the two of them lying in each other’s arms under the moon, watching the fireflies dance all around them. The sky was full of a million stars and El wanted to stay here with Mike until she’d counted every one. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the lovely beating heart of the beautiful boy who wanted to die.


	17. The Research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I’m so sorry this chapter took so long. Unfortunately I have bills to pay, and my employers have the nerve to believe I should work for my paycheck instead of paying me to write fanfiction. I’ve had a lot of travel the last three weeks but hopefully things will get back to normal now.
> 
> With this chapter, I’ve hit over 100,000 words in the Special series. I had no idea I’d be writing this much when I started Chapter 1 of When She Was Special. Goodness.
> 
> This chapter took a few rewrites. It’s got a fair bit of exposition, much like Chapter 15, but I tried to make it fun at the same time.
> 
> While I’m doing an Author’s Note, let me just say that if you aren’t reading thottiedottie’s A Private Education, you are really missing out. They are an amazing writer and I envy their ability with character development, word smithing and internally consistent, naturally evolving story lines. Fair warning (or further encouragement), A Private Education is quite a bit smuttier than Special, which may be a very good thing depending on who you are... That said, it’s so much more than smut.
> 
> Finally, let me give some love to my commenters. You guys make this so much fun. You make me think, you make me question, and you make me up my game. You all are awesome. I hope the US commenters have a great holiday and those overseas will get a few days off very soon!

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

Mrs. Byers went to bed halfway through _The Thing_. A few minutes later, Max saw Mike and El creep into the house through the kitchen door.

No one else noticed. They were too absorbed in the carnage playing out on the brand new TV.

Wheeler was trying to be stealthy. He tip-toed across the kitchen and peered into the hallway.

El had other ideas. She hung on the lanky boy’s shoulders, kissing his cheek and neck, giggling softly. If she was trying to be quiet, she wasn’t trying very hard.

Mike shushed her with a finger against his lips. El giggled and shushed him back. As Mike looked into the living room, trying to see what the Party was doing, El gently stroked his ear with her finger. He brushed it away. El stifled another giggle and blew into his ear.

_Oh good lord_. 

Max wasn’t sure she could take much more of this. The mood swings with these two were so severe she was going to get whiplash. Max wasn’t sure which was worse – the angsty depressive moping or the stomach-turning public displays of affection.

Mike peered into the living room. El stood on her tiptoes and licked his ear. The boy’s eyes widened in shock.

That settled it. The moping was better by a long shot.

Mike carefully disengaged himself from El’s tongue and crept into the hallway. Oddly, he was holding a hand in front of his crotch, like he was trying to hide something from curious onlookers. 

Max liked Mike. She really did. But the boy was _so_ weird.

Watching him now, Max frowned. Her frown deepened when Eleven joined Mike in the hall, winding her arms around him like an amorous octopus. Mike somehow managed to turn El toward her bedroom and he pushed her gently in that direction. El spun, wrapped her arms around Mike, and pressed him against the wall with an audible thump. Mike cringed at the sound and looked at the living room in panic.

Max jerked her eyes back to the TV screen.

No one else in the Party had noticed.

When Max looked back at the hallway, Mike was still against the wall and El was kissing his neck and nipping it lightly with her teeth. The black-haired boy gently tried to free himself from her grasp, but El was like a lamprey. She licked and sucked at his throat, one hand on Mike’s hip, the other on his shoulder. She pressed her lips against his, giving him wet, open-mouthed kisses.Mike gave in, opening his lips and letting her into his mouth.

That’s when El slid her hand around Mike’s hip and grabbed his ass.

Wheeler jumped at the contact. Eleven stopped kissing him and nipped the point of his chin. She giggled again and returned her attention to Mike’s neck, her hand kneading his butt through his dark blue Levis.

If they kept this up, Max was going to retch.

Mike managed to wriggle free of El’s grasp and he caught her hands before she could grab him again. He turned her back toward her bedroom, whispering something in her ear. El sighed and gave a mock pout but then set off, looking back to bat her eyelashes at him. She blew Mike a kiss as she went into the bedroom and closed the door.

Mike heaved a deep breath, recovering from El’s… enthusiasm. Then he went into Will’s room.

Max shook her head. What kind of weirdness were those two getting into now?

* * *

A short while later, Mike stepped into the living room, hit pause on the VCR and turned off the TV. The Party exploded in a chorus of groans and boos.

“Mike, come on!” Dustin shouted. “That was the best part! The Thing was about to bite Richard Dysart’s arms off!”

“Seriously, Wheeler,” Steve agreed.

Max had seen _The Thing_ about a dozen times and would rather have watched something else. But she had to agree that turning it off at the halfway mark was kind of a dick move.

“Guys, quiet,” Mike said. “I told you we needed a team meeting once Mrs. Byers went to sleep.”

“And it couldn’t wait until we finished the movie?” Lucas protested.

“This is urgent,” Mike said. His eyes flashed to Will. The small boy grudgingly nodded.

After some more griping, the Party gathered around the dining room table under Mike’s watchful eye. The black-haired boy set two big, leather-bound books on the table. They had ridged spines, gilt-edged paper, and hand-tooled titles carefully worked into the leather. They looked old.

Mike stood at the head of the table in his uniform of white shirt and faded jeans. Max watched El quietly pad in from the kitchen with a glass of water in each hand, one for herself and one for Mike. She was wearing a pretty pink button-up shirt and denim shorts. El put the waters on the table, eased into a chair to Mike’s right, and looked up at him with adoring eyes. Mike gathered his thoughts.

Wait a minute, Max thought. Faded jeans? Denim shorts?

Just ten minutes ago, Mike had been wearing dark blue Levis. El had been wearing khakis. What in the world…?

The gears in Max’s head turned. She connected A to B to C.

_Oh. My. God._

“Okay,” Mike began, “Will and I had a big day. It took us a while, but I think we managed to figure out where the Gate is. We found a way to fight the Upside Down, too.”

The Party went quiet, intrigued by Mike’s words.

Max looked carefully at El.

The girl was staring at Mike with big doe eyes. She followed his every gesture. She seemed mesmerized by the movement of his lips when he spoke. She practically glowed with love.

El _glowed_.

“Will and I did some digging at the library and then at Hall of Records,” Mike said. “It’s not good news. This isn’t the first time the Upside Down has invaded Maine.”

Max took in El’s adoring gaze. She took in the girl’s easy smile. El’s posture was loose, relaxed, almost languid. There was a rosy flush in her cheeks and bliss seemed to radiate from her entire body. 

It looked familiar to Max. It looked like…

_Good lord._

Max had humped enough vibrators to know what post-orgasm glow looked like and it looked _just like that_.

Her eyes shot to Wheeler. The skinny boy had opened one of the big books and he was reading excerpts to the Party, explaining the appearance of the Upside Down in Maine back in colonial times.

Max barely heard him. Her mind was struggling with the idea that awkward, dorky, king of the nerds Mike Wheeler had managed to ring Eleven’s bell. By the looks of things, it hadn’t been a small bell either. Mike had played a full-on carillon. Now El was basking in the delicious afterglow.

Max never would have guessed. Mike Wheeler. Huh. The scrawny twerp was full of surprises.

“So a Gate opened in the sea caves under Shingleford Strand,” Mike explained to the Party. “As strange as it sounds, it seems like it was a natural phenomenon. Nothing caused it. It just happened. Some of the colonists were scientists and they studied it. They speculated that every now and then the barrier between our dimensions gets… thinner. When it does, Gates to the Upside Down can open. We can cross to their dimension – and they can cross to ours.”

“Think about that,” Will told the Party. “It could explain a lot. Dragons. Demons. Goblins and ghouls. What if they weren’t fairy tales? What if they were actually something from the Upside Down that crossed over into our world when a Gate opened?”

“And then we built up legends around it,” Lucas said, awed. “But as crazy as the legends sound, they might be based in fact.”

“That’s awesome,” Dustin breathed.

While the nerds talked about mythology, Max caught El’s eye. _El_, she mouthed soundlessly, _did you guys do it?_

The short-haired girl gave her a confused look. _What?_ El mouthed.

_Did you do it?_ Max repeated. She made a circle with her thumb and finger, then stuck another finger through it. It was the universal symbol for Having Sex.

El looked surprised. _No_, she mouthed, shaking her head. She made a V with the fingers of one hand, straddled the edge of her other hand with them, and rubbed her hands together.

Max had no idea what that meant.

What kind of strange perverted shit was Mike into?

_Did you come?_ Max mouthed.

_What?_

_Did you come?_ Max repeated. She mock-hugged herself and shook her body a little, rolling her eyes back in her head.

_Oh_. El blushed furiously. She nodded and smiled shyly, her eyes flicking to Mike and then bashfully to the floor.

Wow. So Max’s suspicions were confirmed.

She was surprised and more than a little impressed. Wheeler was a stud. Go figure.

_Did Mike come?_ Max mouthed at El.

_What?_ El mouthed back.

_Did Mike come?_Max made the jerking motion she’d shown El when they were shopping, and mimed spurting without making the sound.

El nodded vigorously. _Oh yes_. She made the jerking, spurting gesture too.

Max suddenly realized the entire table had gone quiet.

“Do you ladies have something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” Dustin asked.

“No,” said Max.

“No,” said El.

“No!” shouted Mike, a hint of panic in his voice. Everyone at the table turned to look at him.

Mike coughed. “I mean, ‘No.’ I mean, we need to focus here.”

Will took up the story, a little bewildered by Mike’s shouting. “Anyway… like Mike said, a Gate opened in colonial times. The Upside Down came into our world and started killing the colonists or taking them away into the other dimension. Based on the stories in these books, there were demogorgons, demodogs, and…”

He flipped one of the books open to a large color plate.

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathed.

“A Flesh Flayer,” murmured Jonathan.

There was silence for a moment.

“But it looks… different,” Steve said at last.

The Party stared at the picture, which showed something like a Flesh Flayer wreaking havoc on a coastal village. The creature was half in and half out of the water, floating on a bloated lower body. Some of its limbs were long and spidery, like the Flesh Flayer they’d fought at Starcourt, but others were more like flippers.

“It’s like a cross between a Flesh Flayer and the Loch Ness Monster,” Lucas said.

“What’s the Loch Ness Monster?” El asked.

“It’s a legend,” Mike told her, “a huge aquatic creature that’s supposed to live in a lake in Scotland. People claim it’s a throwback to the days of the dinosaurs.”

“Oh,” El said. She was clearly still confused.

“I’ll tell you more later,” Mike whispered and that seemed to satisfy her.

“At any rate,” Will said, “based on the descriptions, this thing was like a Flesh Flayer that had adapted to be in the water.”

“A Fish Flayer,” Dustin gasped.

Lucas sighed. “We have got to start coming up with better names for these things.”

“So what did the colonists do?” Steve asked. “That picture looks pretty grim.”

“Not the kind of thing you’d want to fight with a flintlock,” Dustin agreed.

Mike took up the story now. “A group of the colonists, most of them part of a society called the Freemasons, banded together to try to stop the monsters and close the Gate.”

“I’ve heard of the Freemasons,” Steve said. “My dad’s one. They do charity work.They’re kind of like the Lions Club or the Moose Lodge. You’re saying those guys fought the Upside Down?”

“That’s the organization today,” Mike told him. “In colonial times, they were a powerful secret society. George Washington was one. So was Benjamin Franklin. A lot of people thought the Freemasons secretly controlled the governments of Europe and the colonies, and that they had access to mystical knowledge that let them manipulate world events.”

As Mike and Will explained how the Freemasons tried to battle the Upside Down and close the Gate, Lucas leaned close to Max. “What was going on with you and El?” he murmured.

Max looked around, making sure no one could hear. “You can’t tell anyone,” she whispered.

“Who would I tell?” Lucas asked. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Ordinarily Max would have rolled her eyes at that. Lucas’ cross-my-heart promises weren’t worth the breath it took to make them. But this was just too juicy to keep to herself. She cupped a hand over his ear. “El and Mike were… doing things… while we were watching the movie.”

“Good lord,” Lucas murmured. “Did they do it? I mean, _Do It_, do it?”

“No, I don’t think they went all the way. But they definitely did enough to give each other a happy.”

“Whoa.” Lucas looked surprised. Then he frowned. “Wait. _Both_ of them got a happy? Even El?”

“I think especially El,” Max whispered.

“Wow,” Lucas said, impressed. “Way to go Mike.”

“Guys, seriously?” Mike interjected from the head of the table. The black-haired boy was clearly annoyed. “Have you heard anything we said?”

“Um, sorry,” Lucas said, “we were, uh, distracted by something.”

“Distracted?” Mike snapped. “Lucas, we’re talking about the fate of the world here! Is it too much to ask that people not screw around tonight?”

Lucas coughed. “Interesting choice of words, Mike.”

“What?”

“We’re sorry,” Max interrupted. “We’re listening. You were saying?” She glared at Lucas.

Mike started to speak but Dustin broke in. “You know, this explains some things that have been bothering me.”

“What do you mean?” asked Will.

“Well, Dr. Owens told us that Brenner and the Russians opened a Gate. But El is the only person we know who can open a new Gate by herself. Last year, when the Russians used their machine, they had to focus it on the old scar under the Lab.”

“That’s right,” Steve said, “that’s why they bought up all that land and built Starcourt – so they could tunnel their way to the old Gate.”

“And you think they’re doing the same thing here,” Jonathan said. “You think they haven’t opened a new Gate. They’re reopening the old one from the colonial days.”

“Exactly,” said Dustin.

“Will and I think so too,” said Mike. “Based on what we found in these books, we think the Gate must be here.” He unfurled one of El’s maps and spread it over the table, then pointed at the sea caves near the Shingleford Strand lighthouse.

“There’s more evidence,” Will added. “Mike and I looked through title documents at Hall of Records this afternoon. Almost all of the land around these caves was bought up over the last year. The buyers have different names, but if you dig deeper, you find out that they’re all shell companies leading back to the same owner.”

“And who is that?” Jonathan asked.

“The Department of Agriculture,” Mike said. “Something called K Branch.”

As the Party considered this news, Lucas waved Dustin over. He whispered in the stocky boy’s ear.

Dustin’s jaw dropped.“Are you serious?”

Lucas nodded.

“Holy shit,” Dustin said. He looked at Mike, then at El, then back at Mike. “Holy shit,” he repeated.

Max slapped Lucas on the arm. “Are you kidding me? You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“Dustin’s my friend!” Lucas protested. “And this is a major piece of news. How could I _not_ tell him?”

“Lucas, my god,” Max fumed. “If you’d known the secrets to the D-Day invasion, we’d all be speaking German right now.”

“Max, it’s okay,” Dustin said. “Give him a break. He’s right. This is major news about a member of the Party. It’s not the kind of thing you keep secret.”

“Oh good lord,” Max groaned, rolling her eyes.

Dustin lowered his voice. “Are you sure that both Mike and El… you know… ka-ching?”

“Ka-ching?” Lucas said. “That’s what you call it?”

“What am I supposed to call it?” Dustin said. “Besides, you clearly knew what I meant.”

“Would both of you shut up!” Max hissed. She turned to Dustin, annoyed. “And yes, I’m pretty sure both of them… ka-ching.”

“Wow,” Dustin said, impressed.“You know, I always sensed that Mike was a giver.”

At the other end of the table, Jonathan looked up from the map. “So how did the colonists defeat the Upside Down? Did they close the Gate?”

“They did,” Mike said. “We haven’t had time to go through the books in detail, but it seems like the Freemasons discovered a ritual that would close a natural, spontaneous Gate. Will and I found a few references, but nothing specific. If you think about last year, we probably don’t need the ritual. Shutting down the Russians’ machine should do the trick.”

“The ritual wasn’t all though,” Will said. “The colonists had a weapon they used to fight the Upside Down.”

“Now we’re talking,” said Steve.“What kind of weapon?”

* * *

Mike opened the book to another color plate.It showed a black-shafted spear with a long, glittering silver tip.Even as a drawing in a book it looked deadly.

“It was something the first settlers brought to Maine when they came over from Britain,” said Mike.“A special artifact of the Freemasons. A holy artifact.”

“What do you mean, _holy_?” Steve asked.

“I mean _holy_,” Mike said. “I mean they brought something to the New World that they claimed was the spear of St. Longinus.”

“St. Longinus? Who’s that?” Jonathan asked. 

“According to the Church,” Will said, “St. Longinus is the Roman soldier who stabbed Christ with a spear while He was on the cross.Some people claim that the spear acquired mystical power as a result. It’s known in legend as the Spear of Destiny.”

“Whoa,” Dustin said.

“That… that sounds pretty cool,” said Steve.

“And these colonial Freemasons had the spear?” asked Max, caught up in the story despite herself.

“That’s right,” Mike told her. “According to legend, one of the Knights Templar brought the spear from the Holy Land to Scotland in 1307. That was the same year the Templars were accused of heresy by Pope Clement V. The Church finally disbanded the order in 1312. Some people claim that in those final years, the Templars hid a number of magical artifacts they’d uncovered in the Holy Land, including the Spear of Destiny and the Holy Grail.”

“That is wild,” Dustin said.

“According to what we found in these books, the spear eventually came into the hands of the Freemasons. Some people claim that the Freemasons are actually a successor organization to the Knights Templar, carrying their secrets into the modern day. When the colonists came to Maine from Britain, the Freemasons in the group brought the spear with them.”

“Wait a minute,” Steve said. “Do you guys think this spear is the real thing? That it actually has divine power?”

“I don’t know,” Will admitted. “Is it actually the spear that a Roman soldier used to stab Christ two thousand years ago? I couldn’t tell you. But that’s what the colonists believed. The spear does seem to have some kind of power. Based on what Mike and I read, the spear can… dissolve… things from the Upside Down.”

“Remember how El disintegrated that demogorgon back when we first met her?” Mike asked.“If you stab a demogorgon with the spear, it seems to do the same thing.”

“Good lord,” Lucas murmured.

“But is its power divine?” Mike continued. “We don’t know. The real source of the spear’s power is a mystery. It could be it’s something natural that we’re just not familiar with.”

“Sure,” Dustin said, snapping his fingers. “The spear could be a transdimensional energy matrix. It could run power at opposite intervals to the Gate. Let’s say the Gate is a sine wave and the spear generates a cosign wave. The amplitudes cancel and you get a flatline. The connection is severed. The Upside Downers disintegrate.” The curly-haired boy shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m just speculating. But that would make sense.”

“Precisely,” said Will.

“You’ve got it,” said Mike.

Lucas nodded.

Steve stared at the boys like they were speaking Martian.

There was silence for a moment in the dining room.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Eleven said at last. “I didn’t understand anything you said. Who is Pope Clement? What is the Holy Land?”

“What’s a sine wave?” Steve chimed in. “I’m with El. It’s like you guys are speaking English but I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Okay, short version?” Dustin said. “There’s a magic spear. It kills the Upside Down.”

“Right,” said Mike. “And the colonists used it two hundred and fifty years ago to fight off an interdimensional invasion from the Upside Down. And if these books are right… the spear is still here.”

“Here?” asked El. “In Maine?”

“Not just Maine,” Mike told her. “El, it’s right here in Bath.” He pointed at the map to a small island in the middle of the Kennebec River.

“Oh, you’re kidding,” Dustin breathed.

“I’m afraid not,” Mike said. “According to these old books, after the colonists fought off the invasion, they hid the Spear of Destiny in some catacombs on this island.”

Dustin absent-mindedly stroked his scar.“Gee, why do I have a feeling I know where the catacombs are located?”

Mike smiled grimly. “You guessed it.They’re right beneath Whateley House.”

“Great,” said Steve.“Such fond memories.”He sighed.“What’s your plan, Wheeler?”

“You know my plan,” Mike said. “Tonight, we’re going to Whateley House. We’re going to find a way into those catacombs. And we’re going to get that spear.”

* * *

Max couldn’t believe it. Wheeler wanted them to go out in the middle of the night, break into a popular tourist destination, and ransack the place looking for something that couldn’t possibly exist. All because of some stupid folktales he’d read in the library. 

_Magic spear_. Mike was sending them on a snipe hunt. A snipe hunt that might end with all of them eligible for parole in three to five years.

Even worse, after Mike rolled out his insane plan, the Party just nodded. They were up for it. Something about Wheeler seemed to make their IQs drop by 50 points whenever he went into Paladin mode.

“I’m in,” Lucas said. He gave Mike a manly thumbs up. 

Max couldn’t believe she was attracted to this idiot.

“Me too,” said Dustin. The curly-haired boy seemed to think it was completely normal to _break into a museum in the middle of the night_.

Even Steve and Jonathan were starting to hash out plans for the trip. They were supposed to be the _adults_ in this group of nitwits.

“Oh my god,” Max gasped. “Are you numbskulls serious?”

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“You’re really thinking about doing this? Have you gone insane?”

“What’s the problem?” Lucas asked.

“Where do I start?” Max exclaimed. “Good lord, you should listen to yourselves.” She launched into a mock dialogue. “Gee guys, it’s Thursday night, what do you think we should do? Maybe we could finish the movie. Maybe we could play a game. Wait a minute, I know – we haven’t committed a _felony_ in a while.” She waved her hands in exasperation. “Are you kidding me?”

To their credit, the Party seemed to hear her. Max watched in relief as they went silent. They all stared at the map, thinking.

Finally Steve spoke. “I’m not sure that’s right. Wouldn’t it just be misdemeanor trespass?”

Mike shrugged. “The doors are locked and we’re going to take the spear. Technically it’s burglary.”

“That’s a felony,” Dustin said. “Good call, Max.”

“Ah, got it,” Steve said. The older boy thought for a moment. “Henderson, we’ll need flashlights. Jonathan, I’m not expecting trouble, but we should probably bring the bats just in case.”

“Good idea,” Jonathan said.

Max’s jaw dropped. “No,” she gasped. “No no. This isn’t happening. There is no way we’re doing this. El, help me out here.”

“I think it’s a good idea, Max,” El said. The girl looked up at Mike, her eyes filled with love.

Max was flabbergasted. How could El be in favor of this? It was obvious Wheeler was doing his white knight shit again. His self-loathing was luring him into one more attempt to go out in a blaze of glory. 

El should be in a panic, yelling at Mike about his stupid death wish. How could the girl think breaking into a spooky old house in the middle of nowhere was a good idea?If anything went wrong, there’d be no one to help them.Nobody would know they were there.

It clicked then in Max’s mind.

_Nobody would know they were there_. Not the Russians. Not the demogorgons.Nobody.

_Of course_.

Set aside the breaking and entering.Set aside the creepiness of a deserted mansion in the middle of the night.When everything was said and done, they’d just be wandering around an empty house.

From El’s perspective, there could be no better outcome.Mike could feel heroic exploring Whateley House on a wild goose chase for a magic spear. All the while he’d be perfectly safe. El wouldn’t even have to feel guilty about manipulating him, because it was all his idea.

El was making major love eyes at Mike.The girl probably figured this was just a good chance to get him alone so she could jump his bones again.

Great.El was horny and it was going to get Max arrested.

Max sighed.How did she keep ending up in these situations? How did a tomboy from California end up committing felonies and fighting for her life against monsters from another dimension?

Seriously, when Lucas and Dustin showed up in those Ghostbusters costumes two years ago, Max should have just kept walking.

El was staring at her now, pleading silently for Max to go along.

Oh, the hell with it. Who was Max to stand in the way of young love? Even if it was icky and stomach-turning.

“Okay, fine,” Max said. “Count me in.” She turned and shook her finger in Lucas’ face. “But I’m warning you – if we get busted by the cops, I am _so_ dumping your ass.”

“Come on Max,” Lucas smiled, “what could possibly go wrong?”


	18. The Return

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

The Russians around Grigori shifted nervously. They’d never gotten used to the creatures from the Dark Dimension. Even Grigori had never seen this many of the things in one place before.

Their presence didn’t bother him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been afraid of something.

Grigori counted eight of the big creatures that the Hawkins children called demogorgons. Dr. Brenner and the Entity called them Eaters. They were… unsettling. Their inhuman anatomy was simply _wrong_ in a way that couldn’t be put into words. Maybe it was the way their joints bent in unexpected ways. Maybe it was the faint lack of symmetry between their right side and their left. Maybe it was the slimy sheen of ichor on their white-green skin.

Or maybe it was as simple as their great size, their faceless heads, and the razor claws that could spill a man’s guts with a single swipe.

Grigori had trouble telling them apart. Their appearance was so alien that it was hard to isolate a distinguishing feature. Grigori only recognized one of the things. It was the largest, well over eight feet in height.

Grigori called it Scar.

The creature had two black, puckered circles on its chest and a third on the side of its head. Grigori recognized them as healed-over wounds from a large caliber bullet. Any one of them would have been fatal to a man.

Four black parallel lines stretched across the other side of Scar’s head, cutting right over the fleshy knob that hid the creature’s eye. They were claw marks.

Grigori knew that Scar had gotten those wounds last night at the Byers house. Just a day later, the wounds looked weeks, even months old. Creatures from the Dark Dimension healed quickly when the Gate was open.

Last night, Scar had violated the agreement that Dr. Brenner had established with the Entity. Grigori had done the same.

_The agreement_. Grigori snorted. It was as reliable as the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. The only question was who would betray the other first.

As he walked the vast sea cave that held the Gate, Grigori watched Scar.

Scar watched Grigori.

The gate machine hummed and crackled, shooting arcs of power into the pulsing red glow of the open Gate. Out in the lagoon that took up almost half the cave, the water churned and bubbled.

The Entity was coming. Tonight, it would transfer its essence into the hulking body that had been forming – _accumulating_ – for weeks in the cold waters of the Atlantic.

Tomorrow, Dr. Brenner would betray the Entity, in the final and most dangerous stage of his plan. 

Grigori frowned. He knew his history. Hitler had been the first to break the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact.

Hitler had lost.

A technician approached Grigori, trying to stay as far away as possible from the creatures of the Dark Dimension.

“You requested an update if they were on the move, Tovarisch,” the technician said. “Key excerpts are on the A side. The full dialogue is on the reverse.” He handed Grigori a portable cassette player and a set of headphones.

Grigori gave the A side of the tape a quick listen. It was about two minutes long. He popped the cassette from the player and stuck it in his pocket.

“I must go,” Grigori said.

“What should I tell Dr. Brenner, Tovarisch?” the technician asked.

Grigori shrugged. “Tell him… I’ll be back.”

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

Dustin loaded supplies into the back of the El Camino by the light of the full moon. He checked his watch. It was almost midnight. They needed to get going soon.

As Dustin secured the last of the gear, he saw Dart shuffle toward Mike and El. The couple were sitting on the front steps of the Byers house, talking quietly. They paused as the demodog drew near.

Mike watched the creature nervously. Dart had no obvious nose, but he moved his head in a way that suggested he was sniffing them – first El, then Mike. The demodog made a low hooting noise followed by a series of clicks.

“What did he say?” Eleven asked Will.

“He said he’s surprised,” Will told her. “And impressed. With… Mike.”

Mike was startled. “Really? Why?”

Dart made a few more clicks and then a low rumbling noise, halfway between a purr and a growl.

Will turned absolutely beet red.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

Will stared at Dart. Then he turned to Mike, still blushing. He could barely look the skinny boy in the eye and he was trying very hard not to look at El. “Sorry, Mike… some things don’t really translate.”

Mike looked at Will suspiciously but let the matter drop.

Now Max pointed at Dart. “So what are we going to do about him?” she asked. “There is no way I’m riding in the back of the car with that thing.”

“We can’t just leave him here, Max,” Dustin protested. “He’ll eat the dog.”

Dart growled and snarled at Dustin.

“What did he say?” Dustin asked Will.

“Um, I think our problem is solved,” said Will, still trying not to look at Mike and El. “He said he’s leaving. He’s going back to the woods. He says he needs to go hunting and he also doesn’t like our… cave.”

“Leaving?” Dustin said. He couldn’t keep the distress out of his voice.

“Don’t worry,” Will told him. “He also said he’ll be back when you need him.”

Relief flooded through Dustin. “Right,” he said. “Okay.” He couldn’t help worrying, but he knew Dart was tough. He walked over to the demodog and gently patted the creature’s rough, knotted skin. “It’s okay, buddy. I understand. You have to go your own way. But we’ll be here. Come back whenever you want.”

The demodog hooted at him and started toward the woods. When Dart reached the tree line, he stopped and looked back at Dustin. He gave a low growl and a bark. Then he continued on his way.

Dustin turned to Will, waiting for the translation. The small boy seemed thoughtful. “Dart said that if he had food, and you were starving, he would give you some of his food.”

Dustin was surprised. “Um… okay. I mean, I guess that’s cool, right?”

“Dustin, you have to understand,” Will said gently, “the Upside Down… they don’t have a word for ‘friend.’ The concept doesn’t really exist for them. What Dart just said is the closest he can get.”

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Whateley House**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

The El Camino rumbled south on Route 1, headlights piercing the darkness. Mike sat in the back, leaning against the cab, one arm around El. She rested her head on his shoulder. They watched the moon and the stars, not speaking. Now and then she would nuzzle his neck and he would press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Steve turned the car onto an access road that wound through the woods toward the river. The trees rose all about them like dark canyon walls stretching for the sky. Mike hugged El against him a little tighter.

The last time they’d come this way it was winter.The ground had been cloaked in snow, the trees bare and skeletal. El had been first to arrive, fleeing to Whateley House to draw the Upside Down away from her family and friends. She’d walked this road in darkness with nothing but a knife and a baseball bat to protect her. She made Whateley House her fortress and waited, alone, to make her last stand.

Mike and Steve and Dustin had other ideas. They drove twelve hundred miles from Hawkins to fight at El’s side. The four of them almost died in that house.

Except they didn’t.

Except they won.

Mike had never expected to come back here. He felt like a soldier returning to an old battleground. It was a place he’d walked away from alive, victorious, but he wasn’t eager to return. A lot of the memories weren’t happy ones.

They drove out of the trees onto a narrow wooden bridge stretching over the Kennebec River. At the other end was an island, a steep rocky promontory cloaked in trees. Sheer cliff faces stretched a hundred feet out of the water to a high plateau.

Steve stopped the car at the far end of the bridge. A gate blocked the road ahead. It was closed with a chain and padlock.

“Well, that’s new,” Mike murmured.

“I guess they didn’t appreciate us trashing the place last December,” Dustin said. “I wonder if they ever managed to glue all those china plates back together?”

Lucas held up a pair of bolt cutters. “Luckily, we came prepared.”

“Oh good,” said Max, “we’re officially breaking the law now.” She glared at Mike. “I hope you’re happy.”

“Ecstatic,” Mike said.

Lucas hopped out of the car and made quick work of the padlock. He pushed open the gate and soon the El Camino was winding its way to the top of the plateau on a steep switchback road.Then they followed the road through the woods until they reached an open field where long grasses rippled in the wind.

At the far end of the field, perched on the cliff tops, was Whateley House.

The mansion had been built years before by one of Maine’s first families, the Whateleys. They’d made their fortune in timber and whaling, and were prominent members of Bath society from colonial times to the early 1950s. Mismanagement and bad luck devastated the family and they were forced to sell the estate to the city. The mansion was turned into a museum and the surrounding island became public parkland.

In daylight the house looked dark and brooding. it was even grimmer at night.

“Good lord,” said Max. “It’s like it was _designed_ to be the setting for a slasher movie.”

“It’s not that bad,” Dustin said, but there wasn’t a lot of conviction in his voice.

The mansion was two stories, built in an eccentric style that was part colonial and part Victorian. Dark windows pierced the walls. There was a broad wraparound porch, dotted here and there with lonely chairs. The house loomed black and ominous against the starlit sky.

Mike had to admit the place was no Disneyland.

A few dozen yards from the main house were a small shed and an old garage.Mike had almost died in that garage. The scars from the demogorgon’s bite would be on his shoulder forever.

For a moment Mike wondered if coming here was such a good idea after all. Then he thought of the girl cuddled against him, the most precious thing in the entire world. Monsters from another dimension were creeping into this world to kill her.

There was no way some spooky old house was going to stop Mike from saving her.

Steve parked the El Camino by the porch steps and everyone piled out of the car. They grabbed backpacks stuffed with gear, and then Mike and Steve led them up the steps to the heavy oak front door. A hanging bench swing to their left rocked back and forth in the breeze. The chains securing it to the porch roof creaked every time it swayed.

For a moment the Party stood quietly on the porch, straining with every sense for the slightest hint of danger.

_Creak creak, creak creak_, went the swing.

“Well that’s fucking creepy,” Dustin said.

“No shit,” Steve agreed. “Someone get a flashlight going.”

“Let me see if El’s key still works,” Mike said. Eleven had stolen a ring of keys from the museum last winter, when she was skipping school and taking lonely refuge in the house.

No luck. “They must have changed the locks,” Dustin sighed.

“Now what?” asked Lucas.

Eleven pulled a crowbar from her backpack. “Follow me.”

She led the Party around to the side of the house and stopped at the second window. It looked into the living room, where big, blocky furniture hulked in the eerie light of the full moon. El inspected the window latch, gave a satisfied nod, and set the tip of the crowbar between the window and the sill. She rolled her wrists, gave two quick jerks with the bar, and the latch popped free. El slid the window up.

“Nice work,” Jonathan said.

“Practice,” El told him. She climbed through the window into the living room and the rest of the Party followed.

Max and Will played their flashlights across the room. The destruction of last December had been repaired. The living room once again portrayed the life of a wealthy whaling family during the 19th century. The furniture was dark wood and leather. Brass accents gleamed in the flashlight beams. Nautical charts and oil paintings of whaling ships decorated the walls. 

A staircase with black banisters led up to the darkness of the second floor.

The house was silent.

“Okay, pull the blinds and close the drapes,” Steve said. “Then we can turn some lights on. Maybe then this place won’t be so creeptastic.”

The Party did as he said and then gathered near the stairs, relieved to be out of the dark.

“Okay, Mike,” Jonathan said. “We’re here. What’s the plan?”

“We need to find the entrance to the catacombs,” said Mike. “Everything Will and I read suggests they’re somewhere in this part of the island, probably underneath the house. Unfortunately there aren’t any public records of them and nothing in the museum ever mentions them.”

“You didn’t find them when you were here last time?” Lucas asked.

“We were kind of busy fighting for our lives,” Steve told him. “Not much opportunity for sightseeing.”

“El, you came here a lot last year,” Dustin said, “did you ever see anything that might be an entrance?”

El shook her head no.

“There’s a cellar, right?” Steve said. “Wouldn’t the entrance be down there?”

“Maybe,” Mike told him. “But it could be anywhere. The people who built the place might have set up some kind of secret staircase from the ground floor or even from upstairs. I think we have to check the whole house.”

“What exactly are we checking for?” asked Max, a hint of irritation in her voice. She clearly thought this was a fool’s errand.

Mike had to admit she might be right.

“I’m not sure. Anything unusual. Scrape marks on the floor near the walls. Hairline cracks that might be a door or a hatch. You should knock on the walls and see if the sound changes. You guys have seen _Scooby Doo_ – do what the Scooby Gang does.”

“Wow, you’ve got this so well thought out,” Max said dryly.

Mike ignored her. He checked his watch. “We’ve got about five hours until daylight. We need to be gone before then. It’s a big house, so we’ll need to split up to search it all.”

Dustin stared at him in horror. “Split up? Dude, are you out of your mind?”

Lucas was also astonished. “Mike, you might as well put a sign on the front door saying _Slashers Welcome_.”

“Dear hockey mask killer, please pick us off one by one,” Max agreed acidly. “Geez, Mike, maybe one of us should decide to take a nice hot shower while we’re at it.”

“Guys,” Mike snapped, “I know the First Rule of Horror Movies as well as you do. That’s why we’re not going off alone. We’ll split up in pairs.” He pointed around the group. “Will and Jonathan. Lucas and Max. Dustin and Steve. Me and El.”

El smiled at Mike and batted her eyelashes.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s so typical.”

Mike frowned. “What’s the problem, Steve?”

“Wheeler, the last time we were guests here at the Overlook Hotel, there was _a demogorgon hunting us_ and you and El still couldn’t keep your hands off each other. So once again, the rest of us are going to end up doing all the work while you guys are making out somewhere.”

Jonathan looked at Mike in surprise. “You made out while a demogorgon was hunting you?”

“No!” Mike said. “Sort of. Okay, yes. But we thought we were going to die!”

“Seriously, dude,” said Lucas.

El linked her arm through Mike’s and looked at the Party defiantly. “I will _never_ feel bad about kissing Mike,” she announced.

“And that’s what she said last year,” Dustin sighed.

“Guys, trust me, we know this is serious,” Mike said. “We’re not going to make out. Right, El?”

“Right, Mike,” El said. Then she winked at him.

Mike mentally face-palmed.

“I saw that!” Dustin shouted.

“Saw what?” El said.

“You winked at him!”

“I did not!”

“El,” Dustin said warningly, “friends don’t lie.”

“I—I had something in my eye,” she stammered.

“Guys, seriously!” Mike shouted. “We’re wasting time. The pairs are set. Let’s get going!”

“Fine,” Steve said. “Everyone make sure you’ve got a weapon, just in case.”

“I told you we should have brought the guns,” Dustin grumbled. “Maybe not the rifle but at least the Smith & Wesson.”

“Henderson,” Steve said, “in the unlikely event we _do_ encounter the fine men and women of law enforcement tonight, the last thing I want to do is explain why we’re packing heat. Especially to that jerk Chief Leaper.”He looked around the Party.“So, Jonathan and I have the bats. Max and El, you’ve got crowbars. Will…?”

“The hatchet from the woodpile,” the frail boy said.

“I brought the pipe,” said Lucas.

“Tire iron,” muttered Dustin. The curly-haired boy clearly longed for his gun.

“What about you, Wheeler?” Steve asked.

“Um… nothing,” said Mike.

“Nice,” Max sneered. “What are you going to do if a serial killer attacks? Bore them to death?”

“I also brought a knife,” said El. “You can have the crowbar, Mike.”

“Um, thanks El,” Mike said. 

“Okay,” said Jonathan, “who’s searching where?”

“Mike and I will search upstairs,” El announced loudly. “The library and the girl’s bedroom.”

“Oh sure,” Steve said, nodding. “Okay. Then Henderson and I will _also_ search upstairs. The other bedrooms. You know, help you guys make sure nothing _unusual_ is going on up there.”

El scowled at him.

Mike realized that Will was staring at him. When he glanced in Will’s direction, the small boy looked away. “Jonathan and I can search the cellar,” Will said. “Is that okay, Jonathan?”

“Sure,” his brother said.

“Then I guess Max and I will search the ground floor,” said Lucas.

“Oh, so you’re making the decisions for us now?” Max snapped.

Lucas looked bewildered. “Max, _someone_ has to search the ground floor.”

Max turned to Mike. “_I’ve_ decided that Lucas and I will search the ground floor,” she said. Lucas rolled his eyes.

“Okay, that’s settled,” said Mike. He looked at his watch. “We should all check back in at the stairs in one hour. Shout if you find anything.”

Dustin gripped his tire iron nervously. “Scream if anything finds you.”

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

Hunt-In-The-Light-World watched as the big human left the cave. The human was smaller than an Eater, but there was a wary respect among the Dark Worlders for this man. They called him Walks-With-Thunder for the heavy tread of his feet. The Dark Worlders agreed that when the inevitable conflict came, he should be one of the first to die. He was dangerous in a way that few humans were.

Hunt-In-The-Light-World shuffled across the cavern, carefully tracking the big human’s path. Hunt went slowly, wanting to avoid attention.

Last night, he had learned that humans were not to be taken lightly. The scars on his chest and head were proof of that. Hunt still remembered the pain he felt when the small human pointed her banging weapon at him. If not for the healing power he’d drawn through the Gate, he would have died.

Walks-With-Thunder disappeared into a corridor. Hunt knew it led to the stone platform the humans had built near the sea caves. He tapped into the power of the Dark World and Walked. Moments later, he emerged on the cliff top, scattering rocks and debris as he burst through the barrier between Void and Reality.

It was night, but that meant nothing to Hunt. Darkness was his home.He could see even without the pale glow cast by the Cold Light.From his perch, he watched Walks-With-Thunder emerge onto the platform at the base of the cliff. The big human climbed into one of the metal wagons that his kind used to move at speed. The vehicle went up the switchback road to the top of the cliff.Hunt crouched, staying low and hidden until the wagon passed. Then he began to follow it, Walking from tree to tree as the wagon roared through the night.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Whateley House**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

Mike and El started their search in the girl’s bedroom. It was a small room, with a bookshelf, a little writing desk, and a single bed.The bed had a white dust ruffle and a pink comforter.

“Do you want to check the closet, El?” Mike asked. “I can search out here.”

“Okay, Mike,” Eleven said. She plucked gently at his shirt, making sure his buttons were in a straight line. She gave him a little smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Mike turned to the bookshelf as El went into the closet. He looked for scrape marks on the floor but couldn’t see anything. He pulled books off the shelf and shifted around a music box.

Nothing.

On _Scooby Doo_, you usually tugged on some object and it made a secret passage open. As Mike thought about it, he couldn’t figure out how pulling on a book would actually trigger a secret door. Maybe it was something that only worked in cartoons?

He frowned as he looked at the little writing desk. There seemed to be a pattern of lines on the floor underneath it. Maybe a hatch of some kind? Mike bent down for a closer look. It was hard to tell. He squatted down further, his hands on his knees, and stuck his head under the desk.

No. Just a trick of the light.

He sighed. Then his eyes widened as he felt El’s small hands gently caress his butt.

“Mike,” she murmured in a soft, teasing voice.Then she squeezed his ass with both hands.

Mike jumped, slamming his head against the underside of the desk so hard he saw stars. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, groaning, then fell on his side and clutched at his head.

“Mike! Mike!” El gasped. She dropped to her knees beside him. “Oh Mike, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

He groaned again, then blinked, trying to clear the stars from his vision. El helped him sit up.

“Are you okay?” she asked again, wringing her hands.

“I think so,” he said, wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. “Just gave myself a knock.”

“Let me see,” El said. She scooted around behind him, her fingers brushing lightly at his long hair and probing gently at his scalp. He winced again.

“How does it look?” he asked.

“There’s no blood,” she murmured. Despite the throbbing in Mike’s head, it was wonderful to feel El’s fingers threading in his hair and stroking at his scalp. “I think you’ll have a bump though,” she said. “Mike, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, El,” he told her. “You took me by surprise is all.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she said softly. “It’s just that your butt looked so cute. I like it when you squeeze my butt. I thought you’d like it if I squeezed yours.”

She looked so forlorn, Mike felt his heart melting.“El, it’s okay. I did like it. I only hit my head because I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Okay,” she said. Then she smiled shyly. “Good, because I liked squeezing it.”

Mike was lost for words.She was so amazing. She was the most wonderful girl in the world.

Then El suddenly looked nervous. “Mike, you like squeezing mine, right? You don’t think it’s… too big?”

“Yes!” Mike said and El looked hurt.“I mean no!” he said, and now she looked confused. “I mean, no, it’s not too big and yes, I like squeezing it!”

“Oh,” said El. “Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Because I know it was smaller when we first met. And lately it’s…” she spread her hands out, miming something expanding. She looked at Mike with a very serious expression. “Ginormous.”

She was so adorable that Mike couldn’t help laughing. El smiled but still looked nervous. “El, your butt’s not ginormous,” he assured her. “It’s perfect. It’s… it’s the prettiest behind I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” she said, delighted. Then she frowned. “Don’t lie, Mike. It’s not perfect.”

“It is perfect!” he insisted. “It’s amazing. Seriously, El, every time I see your perfect butt, I think—” he stopped abruptly, realizing what a dangerous and horny path he was heading down.

“Yes, Mike?” El asked eagerly.

A voice suddenly filled Mike’s head. _Go on kid_, it leered, _tell her what you think when you see her butt_.

“I—I think, wow, that’s a perfect butt,” Mike finished lamely.

El beamed.

_You pussy_, the voice sneered at Mike.

_I think Mike handled that well_, a second voice said. _Now, maybe we can shift our focus from the young lady’s behind and on to more important matters? Such as finding the spear and saving her life?_

_Spoilsport_, the first voice muttered.

The second voice didn’t deign to respond.

“Help me up, El,” Mike said, rubbing his head. “We should keep looking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised one of my commenters that Mike’s voices would return in Chapter 18. The chapter actually got so long that I had to split it in two, so they only make a brief appearance this time. They’ll be back in full force in Chapter 19. Poor Mike.


	19. The Search

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second part of the original Chapter 18 and I probably could have split it into two more chapters yet again! But I figured, what the heck, it’s written now so I’ll post the whole thing. This is the longest chapter I’ve ever done in the Special series and hopefully there’s something in it for everyone. I do hope you enjoy it.
> 
> On a related topic, in an earlier Author’s Note, I made a guess that I’d finish this tale in 80,000 words. Given there’s still two chapters left to go in Act 2 and then all of Act 3, I can’t imagine what I was thinking...
> 
> As always, I’d like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this little story, and especially all the commenters who make it so much fun to write.

**Bath, Maine – Whateley House**

**Thursday, July 3, 1986**

Dustin tapped the wall in the master bedroom. It sounded like… a wall. He moved the length of it, rapping it with his knuckles. The sound changed now and then. Did that mean there was a secret passage back there? He couldn’t tell. The whole thing was drywalled and plastered anyway. The only way to find a hidden passage would be to get the sledge hammer from the El Camino and start some serious demolition.

“Remind me, Steve,” Dustin said, “how did Mike talk us into going along with another one of his crazy plans?”

Steve was sliding his hands under the window sill, feeling for a secret catch or trigger. “I don’t know Henderson. The guy can be oddly persuasive.”

“I guess. Do you think it’s the way his voice gets all high-pitched and whiny? Or is it the angry hand-waving?”

Steve laughed. “Flip a coin.” Then the older boy shrugged. “What can I say, Wheeler has charisma. He’s got a great career ahead of him as a cult leader.”

“Yeah. The First Church of Obsessive Boyfriends.” Dustin sighed and scanned the floor. Mike said they should look for scrape marks near the wall. The floor boards were two centuries old. Everything was scraped.

“He gets a bit worked up when it comes to El, doesn’t he?” Steve said. The older boy stepped away from the windows and opened the doors of a large wardrobe. It was filled with coats and dresses in period style. Steve started rummaging through them. “Hey, maybe I’ll find the way to Narnia in here.”

“It surprised me, you know?” Dustin said.

“What’s that?”

“The way Mike and Eleven latched on to each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re both great. Mike’s one of my best friends and Eleven is amazing. But… it was still so fast. Like they fell in love the moment they saw each other that night in the rain.” Dustin scratched at his unruly curls. “Do you think that’s possible? That people fall in love at first sight?”

Steve stepped back from the wardrobe and thought for a moment. “I mean, I guess. Anything’s possible with love, right? Mike and El meet in the rain and it’s like – _bang_. They’re done. It can happen.”

“I suppose.”

“I used to think the two of them were kid stuff, you know?” Steve continued. “But now I see it. The electricity. When they’re together, it’s like there’s no one else in the room.”

Dustin knelt and looked under the bed. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Mike had talked about patterns on the floor that might reveal a hatch. Dustin couldn’t see anything but dust bunnies.

“Is that the way it’s supposed to be?” Dustin asked. “One look and bang? Suzie and I didn’t have that.”

“I don’t think so,” Steve said, rummaging through the wardrobe again. “I think it happens all kinds of ways. Love can sneak up on you. You might meet someone for the first time and there’s nothing. You could spend an entire year in the same class together and you don’t even realize they exist. They’re not on the radar screen, you know? And then one day, all of a sudden, you realize they are _so_ there.”

Dustin climbed to his feet, frowning. There was an odd tone in Steve’s voice.

“Or maybe you notice them but you don’t get along. You’re always sniping at each other. But underneath the sniping, there’s something there, right?”

Dustin didn’t say anything.

“You’re bickering constantly, giving each other a hard time. But somehow there’s more to it than that.” Steve stepped back from the wardrobe and started tapping the wall next to it. “See, the thing is… the thing is, I don’t think hate is the opposite of love. Indifference is the opposite of love. If you’re fighting with someone, then you care. For better or worse, you care.”

Dustin watched Steve kneel down and run his fingers along the bottom of the wardrobe, perhaps looking for a secret hatch.

“Shakespeare wrote this great play,” Steve said. “_Much Ado About Nothing_. There’s these characters, Beatrice and Benedick, and they hate each other. At least in the beginning. They’re sparring with each other all the time. You know, a battle of wits and stuff. But as the play goes on, you realize they really love each other. All the fighting and the teasing and the insults – it’s a cover for their real feelings. And even they don’t know it at first.”

“You’ve been reading a lot of Shakespeare, haven’t you?” Dustin said.

Steve gave up on the wardrobe. “Yeah, I guess I have. Robin got me into it. She was in the drama club, you know. At first I was all like, come on, I’m not going to read this Elizabethan shit, but…”

The older boy sat on the floor, resting his back against the wall. He waved Dustin over and reached into his backpack. He pulled out the big paperback copy of _Collected Works of Shakespeare._

Dustin sat next to him. “Dude, you brought the book with you?”

Steve shrugged. “I kind of figured we’d get arrested. I brought something to read while we were in processing.”

“Holy shit.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Chief Leaper’s got this big growly thing going on, but I think he’s actually a softie.”

Dustin shook his head, not exactly taking comfort from that.

Steve flipped open the book. “Shakespeare is incredible. Check this one out. _Henry IV, Part 1_. There’s an awesome dueling scene in it between Prince Hal and this guy called Hotspur. Or this one, _Macbeth_. Macbeth and a guy named Macduff have a massive fight at the end and then Macduff comes out holding Macbeth’s head.”

Dustin was surprised. “They made us read some of this stuff for school. But I thought it was just a bunch of fruity language.”

Steve nodded. “The language is kind of tough at first, but you get used to it. And it’s funny, at first you think it’s got all of these ‘cliches’ in it, but then you realize those cliches exist because Shakespeare wrote them. Once you get past the language, there are all these duels and battles and murders and witches and ghosts – I had no idea. I was kind of like you, thinking it was a bunch of nonsense. But Robin was like, ‘Just give it a try, Harrington.’ And I did, and she was totally right.”

Dustin looked at Steve but didn’t say anything.

“It’s not just gloom and doom, either,” Steve continued. “Robin pointed me to some others. Check this one out, _Twelfth Night_. It’s got a love triangle that includes a woman disguised as a man! Or this one, _Midsummer Night’s Dream_. Robin and I saw this one in the park last month. I laughed my ass off! Seriously, when you see it with good actors who really know what they’re doing, and they throw in some physical comedy, it is fricking hilarious. During the second act, I’m sitting there, laughing, and Robin says—”

Steve stopped abruptly.

The two young men sat quietly and the silence stretched between them.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Dustin said.

Steve shrugged. “She’s just a friend.”

“You talk about her a lot.”

Steve didn’t say anything.

“Just an observation,” Dustin said.

Steve sighed. He flipped through the book and then folded it open. He handed it to Dustin. “Here, this is the best one.”

“_Romeo and Juliet?_ I read this one in school. Not exactly a happy ending, is it?”

Steve stared at the wall. He didn’t look at Dustin. “I guess it’s not happy, but the thing is, there’s really no other way it could end. You know, some loves never really have a chance. That doesn’t mean they’re wrong. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have them. It just means they hurt more.”

Dustin didn’t know what to say. Then he realized he didn’t need to say anything. Being there was enough. Sitting beside the older boy, his brother, was all he needed to do.

* * *

Lucas and Max idly roamed the ground floor of Whateley House. Mike’s guidance to “do what the Scooby Gang does” hadn’t been much help. Max had kept up a continuous, low-grade bitching from the moment they started searching. Lucas was grateful. It was so much better than her periodic bursts of high-grade bitching.

Lucas knew his best bet was to stay quiet and make small words of acknowledgement now and then. A well placed _Right_ or _Yes_ or _Mmhmm_ went a long way. Engaging logically with Max or – heaven forbid – pushing back would lead to a very unpleasant evening. Max had taught Lucas long ago to keep his mouth shut in situations like this.

He found that keeping his mouth shut was generally a good idea, though now and then it made Max angry that he didn’t talk enough.

To be honest, it was hard to keep his mouth shut. It was fun to talk to Max. She was smart, and funny, and opinionated. When she got angry, which happened frequently, it was actually pretty hot. Her pale redhead’s skin would get all flushed, and her chest would heave, and she’d get a fire in her eyes that always turned Lucas on a little. Sometimes more than a little.

Occasionally she would get so angry that she’d dump his ass.

After she got angry, when she finally cooled down and they reconciled, the making up was always fun. Max was a good kisser and she had a hot little body. And wow, such great tits.

The sessions after she dumped him were especially good because she would just get _wild_.

The two of them poked half-heartedly around the living room and the kitchen. There were a couple of rooms converted to museum offices and they snooped around those without much luck. When they reached the study, their eyes lit up.

“Whoa,” said Lucas, “would you look at that.”

Nestled in a velvet-lined, glass-fronted case was a gleaming silver shotgun. It was richly ornamented with scrollwork on the barrel and the receiver and the stock. There were etchings of mountains and lakes, dogs and ducks, all laced with gold highlights. This was the weapon of a very rich man.

“This must be the shotgun Mike and El used last year,” Max said. “When they fought the demogorgon.” Her eyes shone as she took it in. It was one of the things that Lucas liked the most about her. When it came to guns and cars and video games and comics, Max was just like a guy. A hot, sexy guy with great boobs who didn’t mind letting you feel them up now and then.

“That is badass,” Lucas said.He tried to open the cabinet but it was locked. “Damn.”

Max grinned as she held up a ring of keys.

“Where did you get those?” Lucas asked.

“Museum office.”

“Wait a minute,” he said. “What was all that you were saying earlier about breaking the law? How we shouldn’t go committing a felony?”

Max shrugged. “That ship has kind of sailed, Lucas. In for a dime, in for a dollar.”

They stared at the shotgun. “Should we take it?” Lucas asked.

Max looked tempted, but then she shook her head. “Only if we need it. Come on, let’s keep looking around.”

They made their way to a game room at the rear of the house. The walls were paneled in dark wood with splashes of red velvet wallpaper. There was a billiard table and a dart board, some trophy cases and paintings of a fox hunt.

Max inspected the trophies, more from curiosity than any effort to find a secret passage. Lucas idly rolled billiard balls on the green felt of the table.

“Lucas…” Max said hesitantly.

“Yeah, Max?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. Soulmates. Two people who were just meant to be together.”

Lucas thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Max nodded. She moved over to the dartboard and studied its rings. “Do you think El and Mike are soulmates?”

Lucas frowned. It was an odd question.Max seemed pensive and subdued. It wasn’t something he’d seen from her a lot.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Lucas said. “They’ve been crazy for each other since the night we found El in the rain.”

Max nodded again.

“Why do you ask?”

The red-haired girl shrugged. “The shotgun just got me thinking. Mike came all the way from Hawkins to Maine last year to save El. He does all kinds of crazy stuff for her. And you’ve seen her. Her eyes follow him around the room any time they’re together. When he’s around, it’s like she can’t see anyone else. I don’t know, it’s just interesting, I guess.” She ran her finger along the billiard table. “Do you think everyone has a soulmate?”

Lucas studied her for a moment. She was very pretty. She had this brilliant copper hair that shone under the lights and a glorious spray of freckles on her pale skin.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I think they do. But I think most people don’t ever meet theirs.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think – I’m just speculating – I think that there’s one perfect person out there in the world for everyone. A soulmate. But, you know, the world is a big place. I mean, maybe someone’s born in the US and their soulmate is in China. Or Russia. Or they’re in the US but in a different state. Or they might even be in the same city, but the people still never meet.” He shook his head. “Mike and El are really lucky. They’re soulmates who met when they were twelve years old. That doesn’t happen to a lot of people.”

Max stared at him. There was an expression on her face he’d never seen before. It wasn’t a bad expression. He just didn’t know what to make of it.

“Do you think we’re soulmates, Lucas?”

He gave her a tight little smile and then shook his head. “No, Max, I don’t think we are. But I think that’s okay.”

She didn’t seem angry or upset or even disappointed at his answer. She just seemed a little sad. “Why do you think it’s okay?”

“Because most people don’t meet their soulmates. But you can still meet someone you love. I mean, my parents aren’t soulmates. Far from it. But I know they love each other. They’re good to each other.” Lucas shrugged. “In a world with billions of people, there’s not much point in looking for ‘the One.’ It’s better to look for someone you love, who loves you too.”

Max was looking at him with that expression again. She stepped toward him and gently kissed him on the lips.

He raised an eyebrow. “What was that for?”

“You’re pretty special, Lucas Sinclair.”

He smiled. “What, you weren’t expecting me to be romantic? I’m a romantic.”

Max kissed him again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be thoughtful. What you said was thoughtful. Was it romantic? Eh…” She made a so-so gesture with her hand but she was smiling. “You know I’m not much for romance anyway.”

Lucas settled his hands on her hips. “You’re pretty special too, Max Mayfield.”

“Why is that? Because I let you feel me up?” she teased.

“Well, that and I’m pretty sure your hair is red everywhere. I’m dying to find out.” Despite his words, his voice was gentle and tender.

Max rolled her eyes and tried to look exasperated but failed miserably.

“Seriously, Max,” Lucas said softly, “you’re special because of who you are. You’re brave, and you’re daring, and you’re cool, and you look out for your friends. I mean, you were there with us in the tunnels on Halloween. You didn’t have to be there. It wasn’t your fight. But you made it your fight. You’re tough, really tough. And you care. Sometimes you act like you don’t give a shit. But you do.”

“That’s…” Max said. Her eyes were wet and she blinked them angrily. “It’s really dusty in here.”

“Yeah,” said Lucas.

Max stepped close to him and looked into his eyes. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him again. They kissed for a while. When they finally broke the kiss they had to catch their breath.

Lucas coughed. “So, about that red hair…”

Max rolled her eyes again, this time meaning it. “Oh, keep trying, Stalker.”

But she was still smiling.

“Sorry,” Lucas said, his voice self-mocking now. “I guess that was a bit much.”

“No, I mean it,” Max told him. “Keep trying.” She kissed him again. “One of these days it will work. Not today. But one of these days.”

* * *

Mike and El stepped into the library. Their flashlights roamed around the room, picking out bookshelves, tables and oriental rugs. There was a plush red sofa near the door. Long banks of windows glittered on two of the walls.

“Maybe we’ll find something in here,” Mike whispered to El. “Let’s pull the drapes and then we can turn the lights on.”

Once that was done, El put the flashlights on a side table. Mike surveyed the room. There was no evidence of last year’s demogorgon attack. A watercolor replaced the antique map that Mike had shot to pieces. The buckshot scars in the wall were patched and the windows repaired. The only thing to stir memories in here was the sofa, and those memories were happy ones.

“In the movies, the secret passage is always in the library,” Mike told El. “Maybe I check this side of the room and you check that side?”

El didn’t move. She looked around the library and then smiled shyly at him.

“Mike,” she murmured, “do you remember this room?”

“Yes,” he said. Something about the way she looked at him made his voice come out squeaky. He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes.”

“This is my favorite room in the house,” El said. She gently took Mike’s sleeve. He had rolled it up but it was coming undone. “My favorite used to be the big bedroom, because I could see the river through the windows.” She unrolled his sleeve. “But now this room is my favorite.”

“Really?” Mike said. Damn. Squeaky again.

Eleven nodded and rolled his sleeve back up. She made careful little folds so the roll was snug and tight. When she was done it was perfect.

She gently ran her fingers along his forearm. “Do you know why this room is my favorite?”

“No,” Mike said. He couldn’t seem to get any bass in his voice.

“This is the room where you told me you loved me.” El’s voice was soft and throaty. She tugged at Mike’s shirt and gently pulled him toward her. Her hand went to his neck, her little fingers gently stroking the nape. “This is the room where you told me I was special.”

El was being tender and romantic, Mike thought to himself. Her words were sweet and loving. There was absolutely no reason for him to get hard.

He was getting hard.

“That’s – that’s right,” Mike mumbled, unsure what else to say.

El pulled him closer. “Mike,” she whispered, “you’re special too.” She kissed him then and Mike was lost.There was nothing in his world but El’s delicious candy lips. They were soft, and wet, and for a moment El kissed him gently. Then she deepened the kiss and there was energy in it, and hunger. She leaned into him, her pert little breasts pressing into his chest.

Mike was definitely hard.

El’s tongue flicked across his lips and he had to let her in. Her tongue stroked against his cheeks, and the roof of his mouth, and then she tangled it with his own. Mike gripped her waist.

_We need to find the spear_, he thought, but the idea was like a wisp of smoke and he couldn’t hold on to it.

Still sucking at Mike’s tongue, El gently pushed his hands down her body until he was cupping her ass.

Now he was so hard it almost hurt.

_This girl is amazing_, said a voice in his head.

_Go away_, Mike hissed.He squeezed El’s behind, reveling in the feel of her soft, luscious cheeks.

_Mike, this isn’t the time or the place_, a second voice broke in. _We should be looking for the entrance to the catacombs!_

El pressed her whole body against Mike and there was no way she could miss his erection throbbing against her belly.

She broke the kiss. “Mike, you have a boner,” she murmured, just the slightest hint of teasing in her voice.

“Um,” he said.

“We should do something about that,” she whispered and then she pulled him in for another kiss.

_Did I mention this girl is amazing?_ the first voice said with glee.

_Mike, be a gentleman_, the second voice urged him. _El is naive. El is innocent!_

El pressed her lips against his ear. “Mike,” she whispered, “I’m wet.”

Mike had been sure his cock couldn’t get any harder.

He’d been wrong.

Even Mike’s voices seemed stunned.

Finally the first voice cleared its throat. _Saddle up, cowboy_.

_I could really use some help here_, Mike gasped to the second voice.

_Okay_, it stammered. _Okay. Let me think for a second… I know! You could lie down on the sofa or you could bend her over that table_.

_Not that kind of help!_ Mike shrieked.

_Oh right! Right! Sorry!_ the second voice gasped. _It’s just – it’s kind of hard to concentrate right now_. The voice tried to pull its thoughts together. _Um, um, don’t do it, Mike! You’re too young for such a big step!_

_Seriously?_ said the first voice. _I could have done better than that and I want to bang her_.

_Oh, shut up, you horny bastard_, the second voice snapped.

El kissed Mike passionately and he returned it with fervor. She kept her belly pressed against his hard-on, sliding against it as if she was trying to caress it with her body. Mike moaned into her mouth and it just made her kiss him harder.

Mike kept squeezing her butt with one hand, molding her wonderful soft cheek under his fingers. His other hand slid up her side until he cupped her breast. Even through her shirt and bra he could feel her hard nipple against his palm. He teased her nipple with his thumb and El made a humming sound that was practically a purr.

_That’s it, kid_, said the first voice. _Go get her_.

_Mike_, the second pleaded, _you know this isn’t the time. We should be trying to find the spear!_

_We should be trying to hide the spear_, the first voice leered._If you know what I mean_.

_Would you two shut up!_ Mike hissed. _Listen.I love El. She is the most wonderful girl in the world and I would do anything for her. I would die for her. But we’re not going to have sex. We’re not ready_.

_Oh, for fuck’s sake_, the first voice groaned.

_Well done Mike_, said the second.

_But_, Mike continued, _El is also unbelievably beautiful and sexy and she won’t stop rubbing my boner. So just because we’re not going to have sex, it doesn’t mean we can’t… do things_.

_But Mike, what about the spear?_ the second voice whined.

_Screw the spear. Steve and Dustin can find it_.

_Oh Mike_, the second voice sighed.

_Kid, I gotta agree with the fairy_, the first voice grumbled. _This half-way happy stuff is bullshit_.

Mike squeezed El’s ass harder and she whimpered. She shoved her tongue deep into his mouth. The feel of her soft belly against his erection was almost overwhelming. He opened his eyes just enough to locate the sofa. Was there room there for him to lay down? Would El be able to—

There was a loud bang on the library door.

“That doesn’t sound like searching to me!” Steve shouted.

Mike and El sprang apart. Mike spun away from the door, praying that his erection wasn’t obvious in the tight confines of his jeans. El stumbled backward and bumped into the side table where she’d set the flashlights. One of the them clattered to the floor and rolled under the sofa.

Mike and El froze, waiting for Steve and Dustin to come in. The seconds ticked past.

The door stayed shut.

_Please go away, please go away_, Mike prayed. He wasn’t sure if he meant Steve and Dustin or his boner. Probably both.

There was the sound of footsteps receding down the hall. Mike sighed with relief.

“That was close,” El gasped. Then she looked at the sofa. “The flashlight! I’ll get it.”

Mike pressed his ear to the door as El went down on her hands and knees next to the sofa. She leaned down, trying to see underneath.

Mike didn’t hear anything. Dustin and Steve must have gone. He turned away from the door and his heart stopped.

El was peering under the sofa and her gorgeous behind was up in the air, looking round and full and delicious in her little denim shorts. It wiggled delightfully as she tried to grab the flashlight.

_Would you look at that_, the first voice breathed. _Kid, how can you not—_

_I told you we’re not having sex!_ Mike insisted. _Even if… even if…_ He lost his train of thought.

_See? You might as well stop fighting it_, the voice told him.

Mike groaned. _Don’t you ever get tired of being all pervert, all the time?_

_I’m the Demon of Your Basest Desires, kid_, the voice said. _It’s kind of my job_.

Great. A talking demon. Mike sighed as he watched years of expensive therapy stretch out in front of him.

_And who are you?_ Mike asked the second voice.

_I’m the Angel of Your Better Nature_, it told him.

_Really?Aren’t you supposed to help?_ Mike demanded. _I swear, most of the time you’re as bad as he is!_

_I am supposed to help_, the Angel admitted. _But honestly, look at that ass. I’m not a miracle worker, Mike_.

El wriggled away from the sofa then and got to her feet, holding the flashlight up in triumph. “Found it!” she announced.

Mike blinked out of his reverie.

“I found some other things, too,” she said. “Coins. And a comb.” She showed them to Mike.

He frowned. “How did those get under there?”

El shrugged. “Visitors. I guess they dropped them.”

“But a comb? That’s weird.”

She shrugged again. “A lot of people come here. They probably drop lots of things.”

Mike nodded. Thoughts stirred inside his hormone-clouded mind. His erection started to wilt as blood raced back to his head.

El smiled, running her fingers along Mike’s buttons. “Mike...”

“A lot of visitors do come here,” he murmured, still thinking. “And the museum staff. They’re here all the time.”

“Yes…” El agreed, puzzled.

Mike’s eyes narrowed. His hard-on was almost gone. “You were here a lot, El. All last winter. You never saw anything like an entrance to the catacombs.”

“That’s right,” she said. Then she tugged at his sleeve, trying to be teasing and seductive but clearly feeling uncertain. “Mike…?”

“I’m so stupid,” Mike said. “El, we’ve been going about this all wrong.”

“We have?”

“We have. El, I think I figured out where the entrance to the catacombs is.”

* * *

Hunt-In-The-Light-World followed the big man down the coastline to one of the sprawling human hives.

The Adversary had her cave there, and Hunt wondered if Walks-With-Thunder meant to go after her or her mate again. But the big human kept going south until he left the hive behind. He turned off the main road and went toward the river, passing through a stretch of woods until he arrived at a narrow bridge.

Hunt had to come out of the Void then. It was impossible to Walk across water. The Eater watched as Walks-With-Thunder sped his wagon across the bridge to an island in the middle of the river. The wagon disappeared into the trees.

Hunt wasn’t concerned. He knew now where the human was going. The Eater plunged into the river and swam, reveling in the feel of the water on his skin. When he reached the rocky shore of the island, he clambered from the current and Walked again.

He found Walks-With-Thunder at the edge of a field. On the far side of the field was one of the wooden caves that the humans built for themselves. It was a sprawling thing, one of the largest that Hunt-In-The-Light-World had seen.

Walks-With-Thunder had stopped his wagon in the trees where it couldn’t easily be seen. The big human stood beside it, surveying the wooden cave with the small handheld lenses that humans used to see far distances.

Hunt lurked in the trees. Human senses were as good as useless at night, so he wasn’t worried about being seen. He turned his attention to the wooden cave and a surge of pleasure, fear, and hunting instinct washed over him.

There across the field was a red metal wagon. Hunt recognized it. It had been outside the Adversary’s cave last night.

More than that, Hunt could sense _her_. The Adversary was here, right now, somewhere in that sprawling wooden cave. Walks-With-Thunder had surely come for her.

Hunt started Walking as fast as he could. He needed to get back to the Gate. He needed to tell the One-Who-Was-All that the time to kill the Adversary was here.

* * *

Jonathan’s flashlight flickered across the cellar walls.

The cellar wasn’t a big place. There were old empty wine racks against two of the walls. Tools and old boards were scattered about. A big iron boiler hulked at the far end of the place.

The flashlight cast eerie shadows in the corners of the room.

“Do you see a light?” Jonathan asked.

“Up there,” his brother said. “That light bulb on a cord. There’s a string.”

The bulb was dim and it flickered. Jonathan turned off the flashlight but the cellar was still dark and foreboding.

“I’ll check over there by the boiler,” Jonathan said. “Do you want to try the wine racks?”

“Okay,” said Will.

Jonathan watched his brother for a moment. Will was quiet by nature, but he seemed more subdued tonight than usual. Maybe the presence of the Upside Down was weighing on him more than Jonathan realized.

Jonathan inspected the boiler. The thing was running and warm to the touch. He tapped at it and the walls beside it. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for.

A part of him wished Nancy was here. She’d know what to do. She’d point out the loose stone or the secret hatch or the hidden lever or whatever it was they were supposed to find.

Another part of him was glad she was back in Indiana. She was safe there. If she’d come to Maine, Jonathan couldn’t possibly have kept her away from all of this. She was so full of fire, no doubt she’d have charged headlong into danger and he would be following after.

All those years, he’d thought Nancy was just a little rich princess. He’d thought she was a good suburban girl who would be prom queen and marry a preppie and have a nice house and 2.5 kids just like all the rest. Boy, had he gotten that one wrong. Nancy had a spark and a spirit about her that he never expected. He didn’t know where she got it.

It wasn’t from Ted. Jonathan knew that Nancy’s father was a decent man. Ted Wheeler was smart and driven and he worked hard to provide a good life for his family. But all those hours on the job drained him. Any spark he might have had was long gone. Ted spent most of his free time these days watching TV from his easy chair and falling asleep there with his little girl, Holly.

Maybe Nancy got it from Karen. Nancy’s mother had a fire about her that Jonathan recognized in her daughter. If you looked past the image of the good wife and mother, Karen Wheeler was daring and creative and insightful. But she’d submerged herself in the life she thought she had to lead. Her bright spirit was a dim glow in the dark now, like the bulb in this cellar.

As Jonathan thought about it, he realized that Nancy was the best of both of them. She got her brains and drive and dedication to the people she loved from Ted. She got her insight and bravery and spirit from Karen. Nancy took everything that was good about each of her parents and merged it into something extraordinary.

So did Mike.

It was funny, Jonathan thought. Nancy would laugh at the idea that she and Mike had anything in common. The reality was that they were amazingly alike.

They were both smart and brave and caring.They put themselves on the line for the people they loved. Maybe Nancy understood people better and was more of a fighter. Maybe Mike was more logical and more of a leader. But setting that aside, the Wheeler children were so alike they might as well have been twins.

Jonathan sighed and stepped away from the boiler. He wasn’t having any luck. “Will,” he called, “do you have any idea what we’re looking for?”

“You heard Mike,” Will told him. “Scooby Doo things. A strangely colored stone. Scrape marks on the floor. A wall that doesn’t look quite right.”

_A wall that doesn’t look quite right_. Jonathan had no idea what that meant. Maybe he’d know it when he saw it. “Do you really think there’s something down here?” he asked. “I mean, a secret passage to some catacombs?”

“That’s what the books said,” Will told him. “It might not be here in the cellar. But Mike is sure it’s somewhere around the house.He’s usually right about these things.”

Jonathan should have seen that coming. Will always backed up Mike. The two boys had been close ever since they were little. After Mike fought to save Will from the Upside Down, not once but twice, their bond was practically unbreakable. Johnathan didn’t think there was anything Will wouldn’t do for Mike, or anything Mike wouldn’t do for Will.

Jonathan poked around the loose boards at one side of the cellar. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.

“Jonathan,” Will asked hesitantly, “when did you know you liked Nancy?”

Jonathan shrugged, thinking. “It was a few years ago, I guess. When you… disappeared. Nancy and I had never really talked before that, but she was really kind to me then. You could tell that she cared. I guess it was then that I saw her as something more than this high school princess, you know?” He smiled. “I never had a chance after that.”

Will digested that for a while. “Okay. But when did you know that you might like her? I mean, when did you first find her attractive?”

“Oh,” said Jonathan. “I don’t know. I guess maybe I was twelve, thirteen? I mean, she wouldn’t give me the time of day back then – I was the weird kid – but I always thought she was pretty.” He hesitated. “Why do you ask?”

Jonathan wasn’t sure if he should have opened that door, but Will was his brother. He loved him.

“It’s just… there’s this person I know. A… a girl.” There was something odd about Will’s voice. Jonathan couldn’t say what it was.

“Yeah?”

“And, you know, this person is a friend of mine. I think they’re great. I think about them a lot. All the time really. But they’re not into me. I mean, they like me as a friend. We’re really good friends. But nothing more than that.”

Jonathan watched his brother sadly. “Sorry, Will.”

“And I’m starting to think that this person won’t ever like me the way I want, you know? Because I get the feeling that this person… doesn’t like boys. They like girls. Do you know what I mean?” 

“Oh. Sure.”

“What... what do you think about that?”

“Well, since she means so much to you, I wish she could feel the way you want,” Jonathan said. “But maybe she can’t. That’s the way it is for some people. It happens. I don’t know.It’s okay, I guess.”

Will was quiet for a while. “It’s okay?”

“Will… people are who they are. You can’t make them something they’re not. No matter how much you might wish they were different.”

“Right,” Will said. He poked around at the wine racks. “So what do you do then, when you love someone and they don’t love you? Maybe they won’t ever love you? Maybe they _can’t_ love you? Not the way you want.”

Jonathan sighed. “Then it hurts,” he said. He took a deep breath. “But Will, I need you to know – it is _never_ bad to love someone. Ever. There’s so much hatred and anger in the world, if you can bring some love into it, that can only be good. Even when they can’t love you back.”

“Okay,” Will said. He looked at Jonathan for a moment. Then he went back to examining the wine racks, wiping his eyes.

The two brothers grew quiet, searching the dim shadows of the cellar with their thoughts far away.

* * *

Mike led El into the night, the long grasses of the field rustling around them. He was moving fast and she almost had to run to keep up.

“Mike, where are we going?” she asked.

“I should have figured it out from the start, El,” Mike said. “It’s just like you said. Whateley House gets lots of visitors. I mean, how many people have come here in the decades since it’s been open? Hundreds of thousands? A million?”

“I don’t know,” El said. She sounded confused and Mike supposed his behavior must seem pretty strange.

“And the museum staff is there nine months out of the year, all day, every day. They clean the place, they move the furniture, they even renovate. They did all that work to fix the house after we trashed it last year. But they never found any sign of the catacombs.”

“Right,” El said, still confused.

“It should have been obvious,” Mike said. He paused, running his flashlight across the field, trying to get his bearings. There. Off to the left. “But my mind was stuck in this single track and I couldn’t get out of it. Not until you reminded me how many people have been in the house. I realized then that the only way the catacombs could still be hidden is if they were somewhere people didn’t go. There’s only one place I can think of.”

Mike’s flashlight played across the weathered gray walls of the little shed. “Bingo.”

He led El to the door of the shed and shined his light on the padlock that secured it.

“Look,” Mike said, “the lock’s all rusty. No one has opened it in a while. Do you still have your keys, El? I bet they didn’t bother to change this one.”

El passed her keys over to Mike and he tried a few before finding the right one. “It’s almost rusted shut. Just needs a little effort…” With a click, the lock sprang open. Mike pulled it off and opened the door.

His flashlight showed a small room, half-filled with old tools and moldering wooden boards. The placed was draped with cobwebs and dust. Mike knelt and inspected the floor. “Look here, El,” he said. “Do you remember last year when we fought the demogorgon in the garage?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice still filled with confusion.

“Well, the floor of the garage was hard-packed dirt. But for some reason, the floor of this little shed is paved with flagstone.” He nodded excitedly. “This must be the place. The entrance to the catacombs must be here.”

“Good job, Mike,” El said. Mike felt a little flutter of butterflies in his stomach. El always had such confidence in him. He thought his hunch was a pretty good one, but he hadn’t proved it yet. That clearly didn’t matter to El. From the tone of her voice, she was sure he’d solved the mystery already. 

“Okay, let’s look around,” Mike said. “There must be a secret entrance here somewhere.”

They stepped into the shed. The beams of their flashlights roamed the walls and the floor. El stayed by the door, tapping her foot on the flagstones, listening for a change in sound. Mike went deeper into the room.

His heart leapt. That flagstone there. There was no mortar around it. Mike thought he could make out the faintest hint of an ‘X’ etched into one corner. He scrambled over and dropped to his knees beside it.

“El, I think this is it!”

“I knew you’d find it, Mike,” she said. She stood by the door, looking over curiously.

Mike pressed the flagstone with his finger but nothing happened. He tried to twist it but that didn’t do anything either. He stroked his chin and then gave the ‘X’ a sharp rap with the butt of his flashlight.

There was a grinding sound, like stones crunching together.

“It’s working, El!” he said excitedly. “It’s working!”

The flagstones fell away beneath Eleven’s feet.

She cried out, losing her balance and landing on her butt. A stone hatch had opened up beneath her. What was once the floor was now a steep stone ramp that twisted away into darkness below. El started to slide.

“Mike!” she screamed. She reached desperately for the lip of the hatch but it was too late. El barely brushed it with her fingers and then she slid away into the darkness, still crying Mike’s name.

A thousand scenarios and options flashed through Mike’s mind.He ignored them all.There was never any question what he would do.

Mike leaped into the hatch and followed El into darkness.


	20. The Catacombs

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**   
**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Martin Brenner checked his watch. It was after midnight. It was officially Independence Day.

The lagoon churned and boiled. The Eaters watched from the water’s edge, their sickly white skin painted red by the glow of the Gate. Further back, the Russians gripped their rifles nervously. They were all trained soldiers, but for the most part they were simple men and this was beyond them.

The Entity’s hulking form was a black shadow in the water, growing bigger with every second.

Brenner wasn’t a man to show his emotions, but he allowed himself a brief smile. The Entity’s consciousness had transited the Gate and now it dwelled in the monstrous body they’d created. The Entity would have little control over the creature for the first few days, virtually a prisoner of its animal instincts. Knowing this, it had agreed to let Brenner place a… mechanism… in the body’s hindbrain. It would allow him to guide its behavior.

_Just a small bit of guidance_, he’d told the Entity. _Just for the first few days, until you have full control. The device won’t allow me to give orders. It just gives… nudges._

The Entity had been understandably suspicious.

_Your Eaters will be there at all times_, Brenner had reminded it. _Should anything go awry, they can slay me easily. You have nothing to fear_.

Brenner glanced at the control device. It was a silver box the size of an airport paperback, scattered with knobs and dials. Its signal had a ten mile range and it could penetrate even the solid rock of the Shingleford shoreline.

All the readouts showed green.

In eighteen hours, after the creature’s id was tempered by the will of the Entity, Brenner would take full control. It might cost the lives of many of his men — the Eaters would fight to free their master. So be it, Brenner thought. Victory demanded sacrifice.

The waters of the lagoon began to rise, as if a great mountain was growing in the center.

Brenner felt a whisper of fear but it passed quickly. He had worked too long, too hard, to harbor doubts now.

He was troubled by Grigori’s absence. The Russian had disappeared with nothing but a cryptic message that he would return. It was unexpected.Martin Brenner was not fond of the unexpected, especially at such a critical time.

He set his concern aside. It could be managed.

Off to his left, he saw the stone wall of the sea cave buckle and twist. Great chunks of rock fell to the ground as an Eater left the Void and Walked through the wall. It was the big creature that Grigori called Scar. It loped along the lagoon toward the rest of its kind.

Another unexpected development. It wasn’t a problem but it was a surprise. Brenner frowned and checked the control device again.

The great mountain of water in the lagoon reached a peak and tumbled away in crashing waves. There were shouts from the Russians as the Entity’s form was revealed.

It was a thing out of nightmare.

The creature was enormous, larger even than the monster that attacked Starcourt the year before. It had the same kind of twisted, spiky, jagged skin and it glistened with seawater and slime. There were long, crab-like legs and curving, sharp-edged flippers. There were tentacles and mouths.

There were so many teeth.

When the creature screamed it was deafening. Even Brenner covered his ears.

The monstrous thing thrashed in the waters. A long, snakelike tentacle flashed out, burrowing into the chest of one the soldiers. The man was dead before his body slammed into the wall.

Even the Eaters shuffled back uncertainly.

The readouts on the control device showed amber and red.

Brenner grabbed the device, turning dials and flicking switches. The creature’s thrashing slowed as Brenner’s mechanism and the Entity’s superego enforced their will.

Soon the beast was still, its tentacles and legs twitching. Sprays of mist rose as it huffed great breaths from a gaping, five-jawed mouth.

The Eater called Scar came to the water’s edge. It coughed and barked at the monster in the lagoon. The beast replied with a shuddering growl. Scar barked again.

The monster that held the Entity’s mind reared up in the water, roaring. Its deafening howl echoed again and again through the cave. Then the creature plunged into the lagoon, raising a great wall of water as it dove.

Brenner pointed to a technician. “I want it tracked,” he ordered. “Every available man.” He pointed to another tech. “Radar too. We have to know where it goes.”

Brenner had expected the creature to be wild on first awakening. He’d planned accordingly, but the situation was still fraught with peril. He kept a close eye on the control device’s readouts.

Brenner saw Scar turn to another of the Eaters, a large beast with splotches of red on its back and chest. They growled in the communication of their kind. Then the red Eater strode to the cavern wall and Walked into the Void.

Brenner frowned. Yet again, the unexpected.

Scar seemed to feel Brenner’s gaze. Its head turned toward him and it opened the petals of its face ever so slightly.

If Martin Brenner didn’t know better, he would have said it was smiling.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Catacombs**   
**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Eleven hurtled down the stone slide, crying Mike’s name. Her stomach was in freefall and the air rushed past her face. Her flashlight bounced on the slide behind her, casting wild arcs of light until it broke from the tumbling.

The small part of El that wasn’t screaming for Mike wondered if this was what a roller coaster was like. If it was, she would never get on one, no matter how much her friends begged.

There was a change in the sound around her, a shift in the quality of the air. Then she slammed into a stone floor and tumbled helplessly in the darkness. She heard the sound of her backpack sliding across the floor and the clatter of her broken flashlight. El clutched the floor, gasping for breath. For a moment she felt nothing but gratitude that the terrible ride was over.

Then she heard a sound. It was faint but growing louder with every second. It sounded like someone shouting.

They were shouting… her name.

She heard a meaty thump, the sound of a tumbling body, and something slammed into her. She screamed as she was wrapped in a tangle of thrashing limbs. Panicked, she lashed out with her fists, landing blow after blow against her mystery assailant.

“El!” Mike yelled. “It’s me! Ow! Stop! It’s me!”

She froze, her fists still up, ready to punch. Mike rolled off her, groaning.

“Mike? Mike, is that you?”

“Yes,” Mike said, and his voice was somewhere between a whimper and a moan, “it’s me.”

“Oh, Mike!” she gasped. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?” She fumbled for him in the darkness. Her hands touched blue jeans and she started to grope her way up his legs toward his face.

“I think so,” Mike sighed. “You can hit pretty hard, El. I think you might have— whoa!”

El gasped and jerked her hands away. She’d inadvertently groped Mike… somewhere. She was grateful for the darkness because she was sure she’d never blushed so hard in her life.

_So that’s what it feels like when it’s soft_, she thought.

“Mike, I’m so sorry!” she said. “I didn’t mean to… I mean, I didn’t want to… I mean, not that I _wouldn’t_ want to…” She realized she was babbling but it was impossible to stop.

Mike caught her hand in the darkness. “It’s okay, El,” he said gently. He sounded a little embarrassed and a little amused. “It’s fine.”

She gratefully shut up and felt her way up Mike’s arms. Then her fingers were on his face. Oh god, his beautiful face. It was gorgeous even in the dark, just the feel of it. Her fingertips whispered a tale of high, sharp cheek bones, and a jutting, masculine nose, and – goodness – lovely plump lips.

“Mike,” she breathed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, wanting to feel him against her after the terrible plunge down the slide. Mike was warm and his lips were soft and there was that wonderful sense of _rightness_ that she got whenever she was with him.

Eventually, reluctantly, they broke the kiss. For a moment they just held each other.

“El, do you have your flashlight?” Mike asked at last.

“It broke in the fall,” she sighed. “Do you have yours?”

“Um… no. I left it in the shed when I jumped in the hatch. My bag too.”

The reality of what Mike had done crashed over El. He’d leapt after her without thinking. He’d left his bag and his flashlight behind and hurled himself into the hatch without the slightest idea of what he might find.

All he knew was that El had vanished into the dark and she might need him.

Her heart swelled with so much love it hurt.

At the same time she wanted to cry. Mike cared so little for his life. When he leaped into that dark hatch, she knew it was because he loved her. But she wondered if a part of him just saw another chance at a blaze of glory. Another chance to make this his last day.

She pulled him to her again and kissed him hard. There was desperation in it, her lips and tongue trying to show her love to this beautiful boy who wanted to die.

When she broke the kiss, Mike seemed surprised. “I guess I should leave my flashlight behind more often,” he said.

El blushed. She supposed it would seem like a strange way for her to react.“Sorry, Mike,” she murmured, “I just… I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“Me too, El,” he said. He reached up, found her face in the dark. He gently stroked her cheek.“But we’d better find some light or we’ll have a hard time getting out of here.”

“There’s a lighter in my backpack,” El said. “It’s around here somewhere.”

They crawled into the darkness, hands reaching blindly. El shivered. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, but it brought back memories. The Void, the Bathtub, being alone and cold in the rain. Hiding in Mike’s closet that first day at his house, the door closed, terrified that he wouldn’t come back for her.

The stone floor was cold under her hands. It was very quiet in the dark.

“Mike,” she said, “talk to me.”

“Um, sure El. About what?”

“Anything,” she said softly. “Just talk to me. I want to hear your voice.”

Mike was quiet for a moment. Then he started talking. It was almost a stream of consciousness. El wrapped herself in the sound. It made the dark comforting, like being hidden under a warm blanket.

“Did you know that I counted the days until I would see you?” he said. “On a chalkboard in my bedroom. I called it ‘D.T.E.’ Days To El. That’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Every day I’d wake up and I’d take one off the number. Lucas and Dustin teased me about it, but I didn’t care. It took so long though. There were so many days. There were—”

“One hundred and seventy-nine,” El said.

Mike paused. “That’s right,” he said. “One hundred and seventy-nine.” After a moment he went on. “But I was glad I could talk to you while I waited. Remember? I called you on Cerebro every night. It was so good to hear your voice. We spent a lot of the calls doing school work, but I still loved it. It was fun to do the lessons with you. You’re really smart, you picked everything up so fast. And it was fun to talk about other things, too.”

She heard a smile in his voice. “Do you remember February 24th? I was sitting out in the snow with Cerebro. You asked if my teeth were chattering. It was so cold. But I didn’t care, I just wanted to talk to you. I would sit outside at the North Pole to talk to you.”

El felt a warm rush go through her. Mike was talking so casually, not really thinking, but there was affection and love in every word.

He laughed. “Lucas and Dustin made me go inside. They said I’d get pneumonia. Do you remember? You told me you could hear us arguing over the ham radio. I’m sure we must have sounded crazy.”

He fell silent for a while. There was nothing but quiet whispers as they shuffled across the floor.

“I remember when you got your apprenticeship,” he said at last. “It was amazing what you were doing. You were always excited when you talked about sailing. I started doing a lot of reading then. I wanted to learn everything so I could talk about it with you. I didn’t just want to listen, you know? It’s such a big part of your life and I want to understand everything about your life.”

El felt the backpack under her fingertips.

There was something in Mike’s voice now. El wasn’t quite sure what it was. “I was so ashamed that I got seasick. You know, when we went out on the boat? I think that was worse than the demogorgon. You love sailing so much, and I got sick. I didn’t say anything, but I want you to know I feel so bad about it, El. I wanted to be a natural, you know? I wanted to be good on the water the way you are, so we could go sailing anytime you want, and instead I let you d—”

“Mike,” El said, her throat tight. “I found the backpack.”

“Oh! That’s great.”

He shuffled toward her in the darkness. She rummaged through the backpack until she felt the lighter under her fingers. It was a square silver Zippo. She snapped the flame to life.

Mike sat in front of her. His face in the flickering light was beautiful.

“Mike,” she said. “I love you.”

He smiled that lovely crooked smile that melted her heart. “I love you too, El.”

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Whateley House**   
**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Grigori frowned. The Wheeler boy and Brenner’s lab rat had been in the shed for a long time. No doubt doing foolish teenage things.

Their friends were still in the house. The drapes were closed and the blinds pulled down, but now and then Grigori saw a sliver of light shine through a window.

Grigori was oddly fussy when it came to his work. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going into the shed and catching the Wheeler boy with his pants around his ankles. It would be an easy capture but there was something undignified about it.

He sighed. He was a soldier and sometimes that meant doing things you’d rather not do.

There was a cracking sound behind him, like a twig breaking. He turned, eyes searching the darkness. For a moment he thought he saw movement, a form in the trees. He watched. Nothing.

There was nothing there.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Catacombs**   
**Friday, July 4, 1986**

El held the lighter up but it wasn’t much help. The little flame barely pierced the darkness. She could see her hand and her arm, and Mike’s lovely face, and that was about it.

“Let’s walk until we find a wall,” Mike murmured to her. “Then we can follow it until we find a door.”

“Okay,” El whispered. There was something about being in darkness that made her want to keep her voice down.

They walked for a bit and a wall resolved out of the blackness. It was stone, some of it looking worked and some natural. There were niches hewn into the rock at knee, waist and shoulder height. They were horizontal, each about six feet long.

Mike crept closer to the wall. “It looks like there’s something in there.” He froze. “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” El gasped, clutching his arm. She held the flame closer to the niche.

She was looking into the empty eye sockets of a human skull.

Next to it, scattered about the niche, were bones. Human bones.

“Great,” Mike said. El could hear the stress in his voice. It wasn’t panic, but he was clearly rattled. “Just great. What did I expect? They’re catacombs. That means dead people.”

“Mike, it’s okay,” El said, stroking his arm. “It’s just bones.”

Eleven had never developed the superstitious fear of the dead that all her friends seemed to have. In the Lab, dead things weren’t unusual. El hated death, because it took away people she cared about, but once someone died, the body was just an empty shell.

Mike’s voice was shaky. “Right, El. It’s just bones. Nothing to worry about.” He took a deep breath.

El examined the wall. In the dim flame of her lighter, she saw that all three niches held a skull and some bones. Probably one body in each, she thought. She reached into the middle niche and pulled out a thigh bone.

“El!” Mike gasped. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to make a torch,” she told him.

“But that’s somebody’s leg!”

El looked at her boyfriend, puzzled. “They don’t need it anymore, Mike.”

Mike sputtered, grasping for words with no success.

El took the backpack from his shoulder and knelt, setting the bone next to her. She rummaged through the pack.

Mike took another deep breath and knelt next to her. “What are you doing, El?”

“I’m making a torch,” she repeated. “I have some clothes in here. I’ll wrap them around the end of the bone. I’ve got lighter fluid to help start a flame.”

“You brought clothes with you?”

El blushed. “I brought clothes for you and for me. Just in case we… did something. And got messy.”

“In case we— Oh! Right.”

El’s blush deepened. “I’m sorry, Mike. Maybe that’s being too… fast. It’s just, what we did earlier? When there were fireflies? It was…” She searched for the right words but she couldn’t find them. She sighed.

“It was wonderful,” Mike said. The tenderness in his voice made her ache.

“It was. It felt so good, Mike. I’ve never felt like that in my entire life. I didn’t know I _could_ feel like that.” She shook her head. “But it was more than feeling good. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes,” Mike said softly.

“I felt _close_ to you, Mike. Closer to you than I ever have. It felt like…” She stumbled on the words again. They were so hard. She waved her hands in frustration.

“Two hearts and one soul,” Mike said quietly.

In the dim flickering light, El saw him swallow nervously, like he was afraid he’d shown too much of himself. He looked at the floor.

El took his hand, her heart filling with joy. “That’s right,” she whispered. “Two hearts and one soul. I felt like I was part of you, Mike. And you were part of me.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I felt it too, El. I think that’s what it’s supposed to feel like. You know, when you do that with someone special.”

He kissed her hand again. El didn’t think she would ever stop smiling. If time stopped now, she would be happy, sitting here with Mike in the flickering glow of a Zippo lighter.

* * *

Things got easier once El got the torch alight. Mike suggested that she carry it. She could tell he was still squeamish about the thigh bone.

The room was square and not very big. Niches stuffed with bones lined the walls, adding to Mike’s unease. The ceiling was low, perhaps eight feet.

They inspected the slide they’d come down and Mike shook his head regretfully. It was very steep. They wouldn’t be able to climb back up.

On the wall across from the slide was an archway. Beyond it, a passage stretched away into darkness.

“I guess there’s only one way we can go,” Mike said.

El pointed at a symbol carved in the wall next to the archway. It was about a foot high and showed a compass over a builder’s square, with a large ‘G’ between them. “What’s that?”

“It’s the symbol of the Freemasons,” Mike told her. “The square and compasses.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Shouldn’t that be the letter ‘F’ then?”

“The ‘G’ stands for God,” Mike explained. “Or Geometry. Or the Great Architect of the Universe, which is another way of saying God. It depends on who you ask.”

“Oh.”

“That symbol is good news, El. It means those books were right about there being Masonic catacombs on this island. Maybe they were right about the spear, too.”

El and Mike walked down the passage, feeling nervous and unsure with darkness looming ahead and behind. Niches lined the passage walls, most of them cluttered with bones. Now and then there were symbols carved on the walls. Sometimes it was the square and compasses again, but there were also eyes, blazing stars, pillars, and broken columns. Mike softly explained each one as they walked.

“How do you know all this, Mike?” El asked. She hesitated. “Are you a Freemason?”

He smiled. “No, El. I just read a lot.”

They hadn’t gone far before they found another passage leading off to the left and the right. The one they were in stretched ahead.

“Which way do we go?” El asked.

“To the right,” Mike told her.

“How do you know? Was it in one of the books you read?”

“First rule of mazes,” he explained. “I hate to say it, but I think this place might be one. If you’re in a maze, you should keep your hand on the wall to your right and always turn to the right. Eventually you’ll find the exit. And just in case…”

He crouched down and fished some chalk out of the backpack. He drew an arrow on the floor pointing back the way they came, and drew an ‘X’ on its tail. Then he drew an arrow pointing into the passage they were about to enter and drew an ‘O’ on that one. Then he wrote the number ‘1’ next to each arrow.

“Our first turn,” he told her. “Now we know which way we came and which way we went, and we’ll be able to retrace our steps if we have to.”

“That’s such a good idea, Mike,” El said.

Mike blushed. “Years of playing D&D. I know how to deal with a maze.”

* * *

El didn’t know how long she and Mike wandered the catacombs before they found the chamber.

Following Mike’s rule, they kept a hand on the right hand wall and always took the rightmost path whenever the passage split. At every turn they marked the floor with chalk.

They hit a few dead ends, side passages filled with niches and bones, and had to retrace their steps. They saw more symbols, things like an apron, a beehive, a trowel, and a temple.

“That’s the Temple of Solomon,” Mike told her. “Masonic teachings are usually allegorical stories about a guy named Hiram Abiff. According to legend, he was the Temple’s architect. Some people claim that he wasn’t a legend, that there was a real Hiram Abiff in the time of King Solomon. They say his teachings can be used to do magic.”

“Oh,” said El. She had no idea what Mike was talking about. She thought it was sweet though, the way he always tried to explain things to her.

After they passed the temple symbol, the passage opened into a small room. Unlike the rest of the catacombs, there weren’t any niches in the walls. At the far side of the room was a heavy door of white stone. There was writing engraved on it, stretching almost top to bottom.

Hundreds of small symbols were carved in the walls on either side of the door. Some of them looked Masonic, but others seemed to be common objects. El saw a book, a pile of coins, an anvil, and the numbers 1 through 9, among many others.

A few larger symbols were carved on the other walls of the room, each about a foot high. There was a skull, a scythe, an hourglass, a rooster, and a lantern.

“Mike, what is this?” El murmured.

“I— I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I think it’s a Chamber of Reflection. It’s a place Masons would come to meditate and think about the lessons they’d learned. If I’m right, the room beyond that door should be a Masonic temple. El, we may be getting close to the spear!”

It was all rather confusing to El, but Mike’s enthusiasm was contagious. She went to the stone door with him. There was no obvious handle or lock. They pushed at the door but it wouldn’t budge.

“This thing is solid,” Mike said. “Even if we had a sledgehammer it would take us days to break it down. There must be some way to open it. Let’s see what this writing says.”

The two of them looked at the words carved in the door. At the very top there was a single sentence.

_Pick the right notes or you’ll be flat_.

Underneath it were three blocks of writing, each carved in a different script. El read the first one and looked at Mike, baffled.

_I with borrow’d silver shine_  
_ What you see is none of mine._  
_ First I show you but a quarter,_  
_ Like the bow that guards the Tartar:_  
_ Then the half, and then the whole,_  
_ Ever dancing round the pole._

“What does it mean, ‘borrow’d silver’, Mike?” El asked. He didn’t answer. He stared at the inscription with narrowed eyes and then his gaze flicked to the little symbols on the walls.

El tried the next one. In addition to the words, a little scene had been carved into the door. It showed a tavern room, with a bar, a woman serving drinks, people eating at tables, and a group of musicians in the corner. In the center, four men sat around a table. They held cards in their hands and there were stacks of coins in front of them. 

_Four jolly men sat down to play, _  
_ And played all night ‘til the break of day. _  
_ They played for gold and not for fun, _  
_ With separate scores for every one. _  
_ Yet when time came to square accounts, _  
_ They all had made quite fair amounts! _  
_ Can you this paradox explain? _  
_ If no one lost, how could all gain?_

El glanced at Mike. He kept looking between the door and the symbols.

She tried the third one. It was just a question and didn’t rhyme like the others.

_I am a three-masted clipper, lovely of line and fleet before the wind. _  
_ I sail from the far Orient with precious tea. _  
_ My hold is full and all crew, sails, supplies and cannon are aboard. _  
_ What do I weigh before I start my cruise?_

“Mike, what do you think it means?” she asked.

“They’re riddles, El. Word puzzles. We have to figure out what they mean.”

“Oh.” El considered that. “You mean like, ‘What’s black and white and red all over?’”

Mike smiled. “A newspaper.”

El giggled. “Because it’s ‘read’ like reading.”

“Exactly. They’re like that El, only more complicated. And I’m betting…” he pointed at the wall next to the door, “we’re supposed to pick the right symbol to answer each riddle.”

“Do you think that will open the door?”

“I hope so. Assuming the mechanism still works. Who knows how long it’s been since anyone maintained it.”

“What happens if we get it wrong?” El asked nervously.

“I don’t know,” Mike said. “But that line about ‘you’ll be flat’ sounds kind of ominous.”

El’s eyes roamed over the walls and her heart sank. “There are hundreds of symbols, Mike. We’ll never be able to do it by guessing.”

“You’re right, El. So we have to solve the riddles. And I’m pretty sure the answer to the first one is… the moon.”

El frowned. “How do you know that?”

Mike moved away from the door and searched the wall of symbols. “The moon doesn’t cast its own light. It reflects light from the sun. That’s the borrow’d silver it shines with. And as it rotates around the earth – ‘dancing round the pole’ – it shows a quarter moon, half moon, and full moon.” He pointed. “There, that’s a crescent moon symbol.”

He reached out to press it but suddenly froze.

“What is it, Mike?” El asked. He pointed to the floor. El followed his finger. She saw a faint line carved into the floor that crossed the entire room at the midway point.

“El, maybe you should step back into the passage,” Mike said. He swallowed. “I have a bad feeling that if I push the wrong symbol, the floor is going to open. We’ll get dropped into a pit, or something like that.”

Her eyes widened. Mike smiled nervously. “If I’m wrong, only one of us should be flat.”

El walked to Mike and linked her arm with his. “Press the symbol, Mike.”

“El, what if I’m wrong?”

She looked at him, her eyes shining. “You won’t be wrong.”

“El…”

“You’re the smartest person I know, Mike. You won’t be wrong.”

Mike pressed the crescent moon. It sank into the wall. Something clicked in the wall near the door. Mike let out a loud breath.

“One down,” he said. He walked back to the door, quickly reread the second set of lines, then stared at the tavern scene. He started searching the wall of symbols again.

“This one seems impossible, Mike,” El told him. “How could they all have made money? Someone must have lost so the others could win.”

“It’s not the men playing cards, El. It’s the musicians. They all sit down to play their instruments, they each have their own musical score, and they all get paid at the end of the night.” He pointed again. “There. See that symbol, with the different instruments on it? It matches the instruments they’re playing in the scene.” He reached out to press it but first looked at El.

She nodded, letting him know he should go ahead. It was Mike. He was brilliant. She was sure he’d be right.

He pressed the symbol. There was another click.

“Two down,” El told him. “What’s the last one?”

Mike sighed. “I don’t know. I’m stumped. How am I supposed to know how much a ship weighs? I don’t know anything about tea or cannons. I guess it’s some kind of math puzzle instead of a riddle. I think we’re supposed to punch the answer in with those number symbols. But I can’t figure it out.” He stared at the writing, frustrated. He turned to El. “Did you learn anything in your apprenticeship that might help? I know clipper ships might be kind of old-timey, but maybe…?”

El stared at the words, thinking. Mike was right. She knew about ships. She should be able to answer this.

Suddenly she smiled. She looked at the wall of symbols. As Mike’s eyes widened, she reached out and pressed one.

There was a third click and the white stone door swung slowly open.

“An anchor, Mike,” El told him. “Before a ship goes on a cruise, it weighs anchor.”

Mike stared at her in shock for a moment. Then he laughed.

It was a pure joyful laugh filled with love.

He wrapped her in a hug. “You’re amazing, El. You’re so amazing. I thought it was a math puzzle but it was a riddle just like all the others. You’re brilliant.” He kissed her and he was so enthusiastic that it left her breathless.

“Mike!” she gasped, thrilled by his burst of affection. She was also a little embarrassed by his praise. He was the smart one, not her. “It’s no big deal. I just know about ships.”

“It was incredible. _You’re_ incredible.” Mike’s voice got a little lower and his hand slid down to her hip. When he looked at her, his eyes were darker somehow. The expression on his face… Oh goodness, El thought. That’s arousal.

“Mike,” she giggled, a little flustered. “Did you… get hard… because I solved a riddle?”

“What? No,” he said. Then he coughed, blushing. “I’m _getting_ hard because you solved a riddle. That’s just… that’s really sexy, El.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her again. She gave herself up to it, loving the feel of Mike’s soft lips against hers. They were so luscious and plump, she couldn’t help sucking his lower lip into her mouth. She lightly ran her tongue across it.

There was something hard pressed against her hip. She didn’t think it was Mike’s wallet.

They broke the kiss, pressing their foreheads together as they caught their breath.

“Mike,” El murmured. “We’re almost there…”

“I know,” he said reluctantly. “You’re right, El. Let’s finish it. Let’s find the spear.”

“Let’s find the spear,” she agreed. Then her voice got soft. “But Mike… there’s always later. Once we get home. We can do things later.”

“Yeah?” he said, and the hope and desire in his voice made El do a little happy dance inside her head.

“Yes,” she said. “I promise.”

They stepped apart. Mike took her hand. They stepped through the door.

* * *

Grigori reached the bottom of the stone slide. He released the rope and pulled the flashlight from his belt. It had been a tricky descent in near darkness, the flashlight throwing wild shadows across the ramp, but it was obvious the teenagers must have come this way.

The beam of his flashlight picked out skeletons in niches and some kind of symbol on the wall. There was a broken flashlight on the floor.

Grigori followed the passage out of the room. After a while he came to an intersection. Arrows and numbers were marked on the floor with chalk.

Grigori smiled. Wheeler and the lab rat couldn’t have made it easier if they’d tried.

* * *

  
**Bath, Maine – Whateley House**   
**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Max checked her watch. It was 1:05 AM. Unbelievable. She should have been asleep hours ago, and instead she was hanging out in a spooky old mansion _waiting on Mike Wheeler_.

“Where are they?” Steve said, annoyed. He ran a hand through his perfect hair.

The whole Party waited by the stairs for the hourly check-in, just like Mike had told them. Except Mike wasn’t there. Neither was El.

Lucas frowned. “You don’t think they’re giving each other another happy, do you?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t!” said Dustin.

“Not in this creepy old house,” said Max.

“Another?” said Steve and Jonathan.

Max rolled her eyes.

Steve was surprised. “Mike and El are doing it? When did that happen?”

”New development,” Dustin said. “Kind of breaking news.”

“And they’re not _doing it_,” said Max. “They’re doing… stuff. But not _it_.”

Jonathan looked uncomfortable. Clearly his adopted sister’s sex life was pretty much the last thing he wanted to hear about. 

Steve looked puzzled. “And did you say ‘each other’? Are you saying that Mike gave El—”

“Yes, for chrissakes!” Max snapped. “Mike the super stud gave El a toe-curling orgasm! Now can we just drop it, Steve?”

“Oh god,” Jonathan muttered.

“I never thought Wheeler had it in him,” said Steve.“Respect.”

“At any rate,” Dustin interjected, “if they’re doing something, it’s not upstairs. I had a last look in all the rooms before we came down. Mike and El aren’t up there.”

“Well they’re not down here,” Lucas said. “Max and I did the same for the ground floor.”

“And there’s no way we missed them in the cellar,” said Will, looking worried.

“So then where…?” wondered Jonathan.

Steve frowned and went to the front door. He turned the knob. “It’s not locked,” he said. “They must have gone outside.”

“Oh shit,” said Dustin. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The Party gathered on the porch, their flashlight beams arcing into the night.

“I don’t see anything,” Jonathan said.

“Me neither,” murmured Dustin.

“Listen!” Lucas hissed. “Do you hear that?”

Max strained her ears. For a moment she didn’t hear anything. Then she caught it, a faint muffled booming.

“What the hell…?” Steve muttered.

It started to get louder. More booming. Now there were also cracking sounds and something like waves crashing.

“Oh, man,” Lucas breathed. “Would you look at that.”

He pointed along the cliffs, toward the far end of the island. Something was coming up the river from the sea. It was a great hulking mass and it raised a huge wave crest as it moved against the current. Long spidery legs projected from its bloated form. It dug them into the river bank as it traveled, slamming them into the turf with a boom and shattering the trees with great cracks.

It looked just like the thing from Mike’s library books.

“The Flesh Flayer,” Max gasped.

It was coming this way. 

Max was sure it was coming for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first riddle is by the great satirist and essayist Jonathan Swift. He did many others, most of them much more complex and challenging than the one here. If this is at all your thing, plenty more of his can be found with a quick Google search. The other two riddles come from various RPG adventures I’ve read or played.
> 
> For avoidance of doubt, I’m not a Freemason. I just read a lot. 😊


	21. The Temple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone and Happy Holidays!
> 
> I’m sorry this chapter took so long. I’m afraid I had a writer’s crisis that got me a bit depressed and for a few days I just didn’t feel like writing anything. Clearly I got over it - the next chapter is here - but my apologies for getting lost in the woods for a while.
> 
> On a happier note, I’ve set up a tumblr for the Special series. It’s under the name johnconstantius and it’s called When They Were Special. It’s a place where I’ll post pictures and thoughts related to Special that don’t really have a good home on AO3. Ever wonder what Steve’s El Camino looks like? I’ve got images. 😊
> 
> In future I’ll cover things like the catacombs, Masonic symbols, Whateley House, my vision of Mike and El in these stories, etc. It’s also another way to reach me and exchange ideas in a way that is more direct and less public than AO3 comments (though you know I absolutely love those).
> 
> At any rate, I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

**Bath, Maine – The Woods**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Dart crept through the trees, watching the doe. He’d flushed the creature from its hiding place in a dry streambed moments before. The deer waited now at the edge of a small clearing, twitching nervously. 

The demodog had feasted hours before on a rich haul of rabbits and squirrels. He didn’t really need to eat again. Still, it was always wise to take food when you could.

Granted, Dart wasn’t an Eater. Those were voracious creatures who lived to consume the enemies of the Hive. The Eaters were always hungry.

Dart’s people were the Diggers, the builders of the great caves. They used their steel-hard talons and powerful legs to sculpt the homes of the Hive from solid stone. Dart’s people were used to eating infrequently because the Eaters, as warriors and protectors, came first when food was scarce. Digger bodies had adapted so that a little food could last a long time.

Now that Dart was an outcast, the knife-blade of hunger was always in the back of his mind. So far he’d been pleasantly surprised how easy it was to find food in the Light World. He worried though that he’d just been lucky.

If things ever got bad, Dart knew he could go back to his new, human Hive. The thought frankly appalled him. The humans’ cave was substandard and their eating habits were atrocious. That very night, he’d watched the mature female and her spawn _burning meat_ before serving it over small white grains of some type of _plant_.

It was enough to turn all three of his stomachs.

On the bright side, the pheromones of attraction between the Adversary and her mate had finally faded – not entirely, but to a degree. Earlier that evening, when Dart found the young humans sitting outside their cave, the Adversary had smelled content and even relaxed. Dart could only assume she and her mate had found an opportunity to couple.

Dart was surprised the scrawny boy with the large proboscis had managed to satisfy such a high-status female, but the ways of humans were mysterious. Perhaps there was more to the Adversary’s mate than met the eye. Perhaps she’d even selected him for his skill at coupling.

Dart was impressed. He hadn’t thought the boy had it in him.

Unfortunately, the pheromones of attraction were building up again between the young humans. Although the coupling had apparently been successful, the Adversary was already showing signs of interest in another go. It was astonishing. It seemed humans didn’t have a half-year gap between their heat cycles, as was the case among the Dark Worlders.

Dart couldn’t imagine how a species so obsessed with mating ever got anything done.

It was a shame. Dart was fond of his new Hive. He honored the Provider-of-Food and he respected the Adversary and the Bat-Wielder. All of the humans treated him well. But between the burnt meat, the inadequate cave, and the constant stench of human arousal, Dart simply couldn’t take it. He would gladly give his life for his new Hive, but all things considered, he preferred to live in the wild and visit only on occasion.

Rare occasion.

Dart took another step toward the doe. Three more paces and he would be in range for a killing leap.

A scent of vile wrongness flooded the demodog’s senses and he stiffened. He reared up, snarling in fear and hatred. The doe bounded away into the underbrush.

Dart knew that smell. It was God.

The One-Who-Was-All was here in the Light World. He had passed through a Gate. He had cloaked His essence in one of His foul bodies of putrefied flesh and He meant to wreak havoc.

Dart roared defiance. He’d been waiting for this moment ever since he was cast from the Hive.

The Diggers were builders. With just their talons, they carved homes from rock and stone so the Hive could live.

Dart would show God what else those talons could do.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Catacombs**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

El stepped through the riddle door into a vaulted, high-ceilinged room lined with columns. The room was narrow, maybe thirty feet across. Its far end was lost in the darkness beyond the light of her torch.

The floor was marble tile in a black and white checkerboard pattern. The chamber seemed to be empty except for two free-standing wooden pillars near the door and a large block of white stone at the very edge of the torchlight. There were carvings on the block’s top and sides.

Next to her, Mike whispered, “This is it, El. The floor, those pillars… this is a Masonic temple.”

They crept into the room. It was dusty and quiet. No one had been here in a long time.

“This floor,” Mike whispered to her, “the black and white pattern is based on the original mosaic design in Solomon’s Temple. They say it represents the duality of good and evil that every person has inside them.”

“Oh,” said El.

They walked further into the room. El examined the pillars. Each was about eight feet tall and had a globe at the top. One globe was the Earth, just like she saw in her geography classes. The other globe was the heavens, showing the stars and constellations of the night sky.

“The pillars are replicas of the originals in Solomon’s Temple,” Mike said. “They’re mentioned in the Bible. The one on the left is called Boaz. It’s supposed to represent strength and the earth. The one on the right is Jachin. It represents faith and intellect and God. The Freemasons say there’s an invisible pillar between them, that represents mankind. Kind of one foot in each world, or something like that.”

“Okay,” El said, nodding.

She loved it when Mike explained things.

He liked to teach her but he was never condescending. He never teased her or made her feel bad about all the things she’d missed while she was in the Lab. Mike was gentle and patient and he worked with her until she understood.

He was so smart that he could take the most complicated subjects and break them down into something simple. He’d show her how to figure them out, piece by piece. They’d talk through the basics and then Mike would help her put the pieces together into something more complex.When he was done, it always seemed so obvious to her. Math, science, English, physics, anything – Mike made all of it so easy to understand.

He was better at teaching than any of her instructors at school.

The best part was that Mike reveled in her successes. Whenever she picked up a new concept, he was so thrilled. El could hear the happiness and love in his voice and it would fill her with a warm rush of pleasure.

And it seemed there was more to it than just happiness and love. She remembered how Mike’s eyes had darkened when she’d solved the last riddle. Her display of brainpower had _aroused_ him. Apparently, when El did smart things, it made Mike… horny.

She had a feeling she was going to study a lot harder from now on.

They walked past the pillars and stopped beside the carved stone block. The far wall of the chamber was faintly visible at the edge of the torchlight. Something on the wall caught El’s eye.

“Mike,” she said softly. “Look at that. I think it’s a map.”

They came closer. She was right. Someone had painted a fresco on the wall that seemed to be a map of the catacombs. El pointed at a chamber in the center.

“I think that room is where we came in. See that funny symbol? I think that’s the slide.”

Mike nodded. “I think you’re right, El. That would mean we’re…. here.” He traced his finger along the passages and then tapped a room on the map’s right-hand edge. “It’s a dead end. We’ll have to work our way back.”

“Mike, look there,” El said excitedly. She pointed to the top of the map. “That passage there. It leads to a symbol that looks like…”

“Stairs,” Mike finished for her. “Nice work, El! That must be the exit. Is there a notebook in this backpack? I’ll write down the route.”

El was crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Mike. I didn’t think we’d need one.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I can memorize the way out. Just give me a minute.”

El beamed. Her boyfriend was so brilliant. Of course he could memorize it. He could do anything.

She watched Mike as he studied the fresco. He was so intent. He crossed his strong, lean arms over his chest. His brow furrowed with concentration and his gorgeous brown eyes flicked across the map.He was lovely. There was something about the determined set of his jaw, the way he chewed at his plump lower lip as his mind focused on the problem…

Goodness. She was getting a bit breathless.

El turned away, trying to distract herself by studying the white stone block that dominated the center of the room. It came up to her waist and was about nine feet long and four feet wide. There were bas-relief carvings on every surface. El had learned enough in the last three years to recognize various kinds of Christian imagery, including the Crucifixion. There were also knights and castles on the sides of the block and Masonic symbols on the top.

As El peered at the images, she realized many of them featured a soldier with a spear. The Crucifixion scene showed him stabbing Christ. El’s heart beat faster. That had to be St. Longinus.

She noticed a seam between the top of the block and the base. She traced the seam with her fingers and found it went all the way around the block. Her eyes widened. She’d seen enough National Geographic specials to realize that this carved white stone wasn’t just a block...

Mike joined her. “Did you find anything, El?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think this is a tomb. Do you see this seam? That’s the lid.” She grasped his arm eagerly. “Mike, maybe the spear is in there!”

“Holy shit,” Mike said. He quickly scanned the tomb, running his fingers over the images of St. Longinus and his spear. “It makes sense. Where else would the Freemasons keep it? Right in the middle of their most sacred space – the temple.”

He pushed at the lid but it wouldn’t budge. “Heavy,” he muttered. He tried again and this time El pushed with him. It still didn’t move.

Mike rummaged in the backpack and in moments he pulled out the crowbar and wedged its tip into the seam. “This should do the trick,” he said. He tensed, ready to apply pressure, and suddenly paused. He looked at El, a question written across his face.

“It’s okay, Mike,” El said gently. “Whoever is in there died a long time ago. They won’t mind.”

Mike stared at the block. “Right. They won’t mind.”

“It’s just bones.”

He nodded. “Just bones.” He took a deep breath and grasped the crowbar. “Okay. Here we go.”

With a heave of his long, lean muscles, Mike strained at the lid. El pushed, trying to help, but she wasn’t sure she was doing much. For a moment nothing happened. Then, with the loud grinding of stone on stone, the lid moved. One inch… three inches… five inches.

Mike had to stop, gasping with effort. As he caught his breath, El peered inside the tomb but it was too dark to see anything. Mike put the crowbar in place again.

“One more time,” he said. With a mighty heave and more grinding of stone, he moved the lid. El pushed with him. She felt like she was getting some traction now. They pushed it a foot, two feet and then its own weight took it over the far side. The lid slammed to the floor with a boom that must have echoed through the entire catacombs.

El held her torch over the open tomb. She heard Mike suck in a quick breath as the skull of a long dead Freemason stared up at them. Bones, a few bits of rotted leather, and some metal buckles and buttons had survived the centuries, but nothing else.

Nothing else but the spear.

The weapon gleamed in the light of the torch. The leaf-shaped silver head was over two feet long and polished to a mirror finish. It was intricately carved and wicked prongs projected from the sides. The metal glittered in a way that seemed to capture the light of the torch, refract it, and multiply it.

The spear’s six foot shaft was a dull black color. It wasn’t wood but it didn’t seem to be metal either. Eleven had never seen anything like it.

At the end of the shaft was a four inch black iron base with a wide notch carved into it. The base seemed wrong, as if it wasn’t part of the spear’s original design and had been added later.

“That’s it, El,” Mike said, “just like the drawing in the book. That’s the Spear of Destiny.”

There was a click from the doorway. El recognized the sound of a gun being cocked. A man appeared at the edge of the torchlight.

It was the big man from last night, the one who had drugged El and tried to take Mike away. If Joyce was right, this man had died last year with El’s father.

He looked very much alive.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – Whateley House**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Steve stood in the field outside Whateley House. The wind had picked up and the long grass waved about him. The howl of the wind couldn’t mask the booms and cracks coming from the other end of the island.

“Fish Flayer!” Dustin yelled. “It’s a Fish Flayer!”

“We’re not calling it that!” Lucas shouted. His face was ashen. He gripped and regripped his pipe.

“We’ve got to run for it,” Max said. “Get in the car and drive out before that thing gets here!”

“Not without Mike and El,” said Will.

“Well of course not!” Max snapped. “So we’ve got to find them. Right now!”

“They could be anywhere,” Jonathan sighed. His flashlight darted across the field, but all it showed was the waving grass and the dark hulks of the trees. He called El’s name. Will joined in and then Dustin.

Their cries were lost in the wind and the booms and cracks that echoed in the night.

“What if we don’t find them?” Lucas asked.

“Then we make a stand,” said Steve.

“Shit,” said Max. She tapped Lucas on the arm. “Remember that shotgun?”

Lucas nodded. “Good idea.” The couple dashed back into the house.

Steve’s flashlight beam stabbed into the night. It picked out the garage and then the shed. Their doors were closed tight.

He called Mike’s name and then El’s, feeling his hope dying with every passing second.

It would be so easy if the two young teens showed up right now. Everyone could pile into the El Camino and they’d drive away. They could get in touch with Dr. Owens and his commando team. They could stand back while a bunch of guys with big guns took care of the Fish Flayer.

That would be so easy.

Steve Harrington’s life was never easy.

“Look at that!” Jonathan shouted over the wind. His light hovered on the tree line. Parked back in the woods was a truck, a black boxy thing with a shiny silver grill.

There was somebody else here.

“Mike!” Steve screamed. “El!”

There was no answer. The wind howled and the booms pounded in the night like the beat of a demon drum.

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Catacombs**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

El watched the big man walk into the temple, his boots banging on the marble tile. There was a pistol in his hand, but with his great size it hardly seemed necessary.

“It’s a maze down here,” the man said in a thick Russian accent. There was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Thanks for showing me the way.”

“What do you want?” Mike demanded. He gestured for El to get behind him and put himself between her and the Russian.

“I thought it was obvious. I want you, malchik.” The man gestured with the gun. “I’ll take her too.”

The man came closer, his boots heavy on the floor. He stopped next to the tomb, mere yards separating him from his prey.

“Brenner warned me you’d be hard to catch," he began.

El didn’t wait for him to finish. She hurled her torch into the far corner of the room. Light and shadow twisted and the tomb was draped in darkness. El could barely see the Russian… and he could barely see them.

Mike lunged at the man, grappling for the gun.

Mike was brave and he fought hard, but it was no contest. El shrieked as the big man drove a knee into Mike’s stomach, then grabbed him by the throat. The Russian took two long strides and slammed the boy into the wall.

“Don’t be stupid, malchik,” the Russian snarled. “I need you alive. I don’t need you whole.”

Mike gasped as the big hand squeezed.

El screamed, launching herself at the Russian. She raked his face with her nails, then wrapped a hand in his thick brush cut and pulled hard. She tried to sink her teeth into his neck, but he slammed an elbow into her face and knocked her sprawling.

“Little hellcat,” he snarled, half annoyed and half amused. “I don’t need you whole either.”

El glared at the Russian. The man pointed the gun at her, his other hand still pinning Mike to the wall.

“Leave her alone!” Mike spat through gritted teeth. The black-haired boy swatted feebly at the Russian’s tree trunk arm. “Leave her alone!”

El stepped into her mind.

* * *

The grey wall loomed in front of her. It stretched into infinity in all directions, blocking her from the beautiful feathery threads that could shape the world to her desires. The wall had blocked her for over a year. It never fell, no matter what she tried.

It was different this time. El had never been this angry. In her entire life, she’d never felt so much hate.

She reached into the blackness of her soul, the way Papa and Kali had taught her. She went first to the obvious things. The Lab. Papa. Life as a test subject. In her mind, these things were oily and dark. She scooped them up and they turned to flame in her hands. It flickered red and then burst into a vivid, churning green.

There was so much more. School. How stupid it made her feel. The names the students called her. Retard. Freak. She collected it all. The fire in her hands grew, burning cobalt blue.

All of that was just the surface. Eleven went deeper into her soul until she found the part where Jim Hopper lived. She reached into the dark emotions that swirled around her father. There was so much love but there was anger there too. The 353 days. The fights, the shouting, the recriminations. The bitter injustice of being locked away from the world just when she thought she’d left all of her prisons behind.

The flames turned black, licking at her wrists and up her forearms.

There was something new today around Hopper. It was the face of the Russian, the man who was there when her father died. She gathered the hatred she felt for this man and it turned the flames to fuligin, the blackest of blacks.

There was one more place to go.

Mike.

It was the deepest part of her soul. It was the place where she kept the most precious thing in the world, and there was more hate and rage here than she could ever hope to use. There was a festering sore, and El would turn it against the grey wall and burn the thing to the ground.

El reached into an infinite well of pain. In that bubbling pool of blackness was her rage at the world that hurt Mike Wheeler, her anger at all the people who made her beautiful boy hate himself and want to die.

There is a color in the universe that is blacker than black. It is the complete absence of light. The flames in El’s hands burned that color now.

She cast the flames against the wall, blazing with all of her pain and her anger and her hatred. Blood ran from her nostrils and her ears. The flames chewed at the wall, biting off pieces of it.El set loose the evil that lurked inside her, the part of her that she tried to hide even from herself. It was out now and it was a demon.

The flames in her hands blazed with the heat of a sun. 

_Detonation._

The blast wave knocked El off her feet.

When she looked up, dazed, there was a break in the wall, a great gaping hole. Beyond it, she could see infinite blue sky and the glorious multi-colored threads of her powers.

El scrambled to her feet, but even as she watched, the wall started to re-form. Grey bricks surged into the gap, filling it, sewing it back together. 

_Healing it._

El ran toward the wall.

It healed so fast.

By the time she reached the frictionless grey expanse, the gap was almost gone. El had just a moment to see the beautiful threads and then there was nothing left of the hole but an uneven scar.

_No!_ she yelled in her mind. _No!_

A grey wave flickered across the wall and the scar disappeared. The barrier was once again flat and featureless and infinite.

El slammed her fists against the wall and she screamed and screamed.

* * *

Mike gasped, clawing at the Russian’s arm. The man’s muscles were like steel cables. It was hopeless.

“Do we understand each other, malchik?” the Russian asked. He kept his gun pointed at El. She was still on the floor, staring, but she’d gone quiet and motionless.

The Russian pulled Mike away from the wall, slammed him back into it. Mike’s head banged against the stone and he felt blackness roaring in from the edge of his vision.

“Do we understand each other?” the Russian demanded.

The wall behind Mike exploded.

He tumbled to the floor and rolled as stone showered down. He crawled, moving on instinct, knowing only that he had to get clear, he had to stand up. An ear-splitting roar sounded and Mike looked back at the wall.

It was a demogorgon. It was huge. There were rust red splotches on its chest.

The shattered wall behind it made it clear the thing had just broken through from the Void.

The Russian lay at the creature’s feet, his legs trapped under a pile of heavy stone. He aimed his pistol at the monster, but one swipe of its claw sent the gun clattering across the floor. The Russian turned to the stone pinning his legs but it was too heavy. He pulled at it uselessly, ignoring the blood streaming from his hand.

The man clearly meant to struggle to the last breath.

The demogorgon ignored him. The Russian was pinned and no longer a threat.

The great beast stomped toward Mike. It moved fast. Mike crabbed backward on heels and elbows but the thing was on him before he knew it.

He watched in shock as it stepped right over him.

It was heading for El.

The girl scrambled to her feet and then hesitated. Mike’s heart sank. El was no match for a demogorgon without her powers, but she clearly wasn’t willing to leave him behind.

He was on his feet and running before he knew it. He caught up with the demogorgon in three long strides and leaped onto its back. The creature snarled in surprise as Mike wrapped an arm around its neck and started punching it in the head.

“El!” he shouted. “Get out of here! Go!”

Time became a blur. Mike slammed his fist into the monster’s head again and again. As far as he could tell he was just bruising his knuckles, but every blow kept the thing focused on him and not El. The creature’s flower petal jaws unfurled, but with Mike on its back, all it could do was snap uselessly at the air.

There was a rush of motion as the creature raked back with its claws, trying to reach him with those oddly jointed arms. Mike twisted from one side of the demogorgon’s back to the other, watching each swipe of the claws pass just inches from him. All the while he kept punching.

It wasn’t long before he saw blood. For a moment he was thrilled and then he realized it was his. It was leaking from his fist where the creature’s rough hide had sandpapered the skin off his knuckles.

Mike didn’t stop punching.

He hoped El had gotten away, but he didn’t know. All he knew was his arm around the thing’s neck, his fist battering its head, and his endless desperate twisting to stay clear of its talons.

Then all he knew was pain as the demogorgon backed up and slammed him into the wall.

The air rushed out of his lungs. His head rapped against the wall and stars filled his vision. Only instinct and adrenaline kept his arm wrapped around the creature’s neck.

The demogorgon stepped away from the wall, then backed up and slammed him into it again.

Mike’s grip came loose. He collapsed to the ground. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and then the demogorgon’s huge hand wrapped around his neck.

The creature lifted him and pinned him to the wall. His feet kicked helplessly a good yard above the floor.

Mike gurgled, pulling at the creature’s great paw. Then he gasped as the demogorgon sunk a long claw into his side.

The pain was incredible.

The creature wasn’t trying to kill him. It was trying to hurt him. It was like an evil little child sticking an insect with a pin. Mike hoped he wasn’t conscious when it decided to start pulling wings off.

It twisted the claw in his side and he screamed.

Then the demogorgon stiffened as El stabbed the Spear of Destiny into its back.

“How many times do I have to say it?” she hissed. “Get away from my boyfriend.”

Mike’s eyes widened as the silver tip of the Spear pushed out through the demogorgon’s chest. The gleaming metal was slick with blood.

The creature dropped Mike to the ground and pawed feebly at its chest. It sank to its knees as Mike scrambled away.

Flashes of orange light flickered from the spear tip. They grew, multiplied, arcing around the creature’s body in crackling bands. It was like a swarm of little lightning bolts were wrapping the monster in an electric cocoon.

Mike and El watched as the orange lightning danced around the creature. The demogorgon gave a high-pitched howl and its body began to flake away, drifting off in little fragments like ash in the wind. More jolts of lightning shook the creature and the flaking intensified. In one final burst, the monster’s body _shredded_ into a cloud of black dust.

The creature was gone.

The crackling orange lightning faded away.

There wasn’t a trace of blood on the silver spear head. The long blade gleamed like it had been made yesterday.

* * *

Mike picked up the torch, wincing as the motion strained the slow, seeping wound in his side. He grabbed the crowbar and slid it into his backpack. Then he picked up the Russian’s gun.

The big man had given up on the stones trapping his legs against the ground. Pinned the way he was, the Russian would never find the leverage to get free by himself. His feet stuck out beyond the stones and he flexed them now and then. It seemed nothing was broken but that wouldn’t help the man now.

The Russian nodded as the young teens came near.

“Nice work with the spear,” he said in his thick accent. “What is it they say? The tables have turned?”

The man didn’t seem remotely troubled by his situation.

“Who are you?” Mike demanded. He kept the gun at his side, pointed at the ground.

“Denisov,” the man said. “Colonel Grigori Vladimirovich Denisov.”

“Colonel,” Mike repeated. “You’re Russian Army?”

The man laughed. “KGB.”

Mike frowned. The KGB were one of the most feared intelligence agencies in the world. If they were operating on American soil, in alliance with elements of the American government…

“My mother told me about you,” El said. “She said you were there when my father died. She said you died too.”

Grigori didn’t say anything.

“You’re alive now,” El said. “Is my father alive also?”

The Russian laughed. “What are you talking about, girl? Resurrection? You really think I died? Your mother has quite an imagination.”

El studied the man. “Is my father alive?” she repeated.

Grigori looked away, a sneer curling his lip.

Mike pointed the gun at the man’s head. “Tell her,” he said.

The Russian looked at the gun and then shrugged.

“Tell her or I’ll shoot!” Mike shouted.

“No, you won’t,” Grigori said. “I know you. You’re a good boy. You won’t shoot.”

The gun shook in Mike’s hand. His finger tightened on the trigger. The Russian looked into his eyes, daring him.

The seconds ticked past.

Mike slid his finger off the trigger, defeated. The Russian laughed.

El took the gun from Mike’s hand and shot Grigori in the foot.

The big man snarled in pain. To his credit, he didn’t scream or wail, but he clenched his fist until the knuckles turned white.

El pointed the gun at his face. “I’ll shoot.”

Grigori nodded, gritting his teeth. “Yes. You’ll shoot. You’re not weak. Not like him.”

“He’s not weak,” El said. Her voice was very even. “He’s kind. They’re not the same thing. Is my father alive?”

The big man seemed to consider his options. Then he shrugged. “Yes.”

The gun trembled in El’s hand. She lowered it to her side. Her eyes were wet and shiny, threatening to spill tears.

“How?” Mike demanded. “How is he alive? How are you alive?”

Grigori sighed. “There was an explosion. Or so I’m told. They say I was already dead. They say her father,” he gestured at El, “pushed me into the machinery. It doesn’t matter. After the explosion, everything that was in the gate room appeared in Kamchatka.”

“Kamchatka?” Mike asked.

“It’s in Russia.”

“I know where Kamchatka is,” Mike snapped.

“Kamchatka is where my country opened a Gate once before. It stayed open for thirty seconds. The scientists say that was enough to create a connection.”

Mike nodded.

“But you see,” Grigori continued, “the explosion didn’t just cause a movement in space. It caused a movement in _time_. The scientists tell me there was a thirty second _time slip_. Because of it, for the people in that gate room, the thirty seconds leading up to the explosion _did not happen_. Everyone who was caught in the blast is still alive. Me, the technicians, her father – we all survived.”

The tears spilled quietly down El’s cheeks. “Where is my father?”

The Russian sighed. “I don’t know.”

El pointed the gun at his face. “Where is my father!”

“I don’t know!” the man insisted. “He was in Kamchatka for a while. Then my government made a deal with Dr. Brenner and they moved your father somewhere. He’s in the West now, somewhere neutral, where neither of our countries has control. Maybe he’s in Britain. Maybe Sweden. I don’t know.”

El looked at Mike in horror. “The Bad Place!”

“It’s okay,” Mike whispered. “It’s not really that bad.” He turned back to Grigori. “Why would the Russians let him be moved to Britain? The UK is our friend.”

The Russian laughed. “Countries don’t have friends, boy. They have interests. My people have as many fingers in Britain as yours.” Grigori shook his head. “I don’t know any more than that. The man is somewhere in the West, being held in neutral ground. If you don’t believe me, shoot me.”

El stared into Grigori’s eyes. “I believe you,” she said at last. She lowered the gun. “Let’s go, Mike.”

Mike pulled the crowbar from the backpack and dropped it on the floor next to the Russian.“There. You’ll be able to get free with that.” He hesitated. “That’s the second time I’ve let you live when I could have killed you. There won’t be a third. Don’t make me regret this.”

Mike and El headed for the door. Grigori called after them.

“You know she’s right about you, malchik. You’re a kind boy.” The Russian laughed softly. “The problem with being kind is that you always have to worry that you’ll regret something.”

Mike turned.“I guess that’s right,” he said.He shrugged. “You’re not a kind man, Colonel Denisov. It’s amazing how well that’s worked out for you. Good luck with the foot.”

He and El walked into the catacombs, leaving Grigori alone in the dark.

“Straight ahead,” Mike told El. “Turn right, then left, then right again. That will put us on the path to the exit.”

They paced quietly through the halls.

When Mike spoke again, his voice was bitter. “I’m sorry, El. I couldn’t do it.” He shook his head. “Grigori’s right. I’m weak.”

El stopped and caught his arm. “You’re not weak, Mike,” she said. “You’re good.” She laid a hand on his cheek, stroking it gently. “That’s what makes you better than him, Mike. It makes you better than anyone I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the avoidance of doubt, Hopper doesn’t appear in this story. Does the dialogue with Grigori help set the stage for Special 3? Why, yes. Yes it does.
> 
> There’s one more chapter left in Act 2 and then we move to the big finale in Act 3.


	22. The Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! I hope you all had a great holiday and the year to come is a great one.
> 
> Special shout out to commenter Mousecop for suggesting the name “Kraken” for the Mind Flayer’s new body! Dustin will be disappointed that Fish Flayer didn’t catch on, but the rest of the Party (especially Lucas) will be relieved.
> 
> This chapter concludes Act 2. Next we head into Act 3 for the final (?) showdown with Brenner and the Mind Flayer.

**Bath, Maine – Whateley House**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The wind howled.A summer storm was blowing in from the sea.It whipped the long grass all around Dustin as he screamed Mike’s name.There was no rain, not yet, but it was just a matter of time.

_Maybe the storm will help_, Dustin thought._Maybe lightning will strike the Fish Flayer.Maybe Mother Nature will kill the thing for us._

He sighed._Maybe I’ll flap my arms and fly to the moon_.

All around the field, the Party’s flashlights probed the darkness.There was no sign of their missing friends.Mike and El had simply vanished.

The booms and cracks that marked the Fish Flayer’s passage were so loud now.

“There!” Lucas shouted.“I can see it through the trees!The Kraken is almost here!”

Dustin frowned.“Kraken?Dude, what are you talking about?It’s a Fish Flayer.”

“That’s a stupid name,” Lucas said.“We’re not calling it that!”

“Oh, right, like Kraken isn’t stupid.”

“Kraken is awesome!”Lucas counted out the points on his fingers.“It’s in the old Norwegian sagas.It’s in the old Icelandic sagas.Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote a sonnet about it—“

“Alfred, Lord Tennyson,” Dustin said in disbelief.“Are you serious, dude?”Christ, were all of his friends getting into poetry?Had he missed a meeting or something?

“—and, and,” Lucas continued, ignoring the interruption, “it’s the name of the monster in _Clash of the Titans!_”

Now that was a solid argument._Clash_ was a Greek mythology sword-and-sandals classic.How could you argue with Harry Hamlin as Perseus plus Ray Harryhausen’s stop-motion animation?It just wasn’t done.

Not to mention Judi Bowker got naked while playing Princess Andromeda.It wasn’t full frontal or anything but still...

“Fine,” Dustin said grudgingly.“But I still think Fish Flayer has a ring to it.”

“Would you two knuckleheads stop arguing about its name,” Max hissed, “and focus on the fact that it wants to kill us!”

Trees shattered and tumbled.Now Dustin could dimly see the Fish Fl— no, the Kraken— crashing through the woods. It was even bigger than the thing they’d fought at Starcourt last year.

Not for the first time, Dustin wondered how in the hell he’d gotten into this mess.

You_ volunteered_, a voice whispered in his head.

That was right, of course.He’d brought it on himself. He’d pointed out the dead fish in the river. He’d gone on the _Enola Holmes_ to investigate. He’d come back to this creepy old house where he’d almost lost an eye.

He didn’t have to do any of those things.He chose to do them.

God knows why.It’s not like it won him any points with the ladies.Suzie liked his scar, sure, but she had no idea he fought extra-dimensional monsters in his spare time.The only girls who knew were Max (taken), El (taken), Nancy (taken), Robin (lesbian), and Erica (twelve).

Dustin looked around the field as trees shuddered and fell in the distance.He realized the Party had unconsciously formed a circle.It let them search the darkness while they guarded each other’s backs.

“That thing’s getting close,” Will muttered.

“Real close,” Jonathan agreed.

“And where the hell is Wheeler?” Steve wondered.

When all was said and done, that’s why Dustin was in this mess.His friends.He was here for Will and Jonathan and Steve and Mike and everyone else.He was here because they were here.

“Are we seriously going to just stand around waiting for that thing?” Max demanded.“Have you seen the size of it?It’s even bigger than the Flesh Flayer!”

“I don’t like to be the guy who cuts and runs,” Lucas said hesitantly, “but if we can’t find Mike and El, maybe that thing can’t find them either?”

Will nodded.“I’ll bet Mike and El would be really upset if we got killed while trying to find them.”

“That’s a good point,” Max agreed.“I bet they’re not even up here.I bet they went back down to the bridge.Mike probably told El it would be romantic.She’s a sucker for that kind of bullshit.”

For a moment, they all contemplated the pros and cons.If they stayed, they might - _might_ \- find Mike and El.

They might also get eaten by a monster made out of fish.

“Okay, screw this,” said Steve.“We’re not waiting around to be that thing’s midnight snack.Mike and El will be fine.“

He didn’t get any arguments.The Party bolted for the El Camino and climbed into the back.Steve settled behind the wheel and Dustin took shotgun beside him.

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Dustin urged as he watched the Kraken storm through the woods.The creature passed the black truck parked at the tree line and demolished it with one blow of its claw.

“Steve, we really need to go,” Dustin said.

“Don’t worry, Henderson. That creature’s made for water, not land.No way is it going to catch us.” Steve slid the key into the ignition and patted the dashboard.“All right baby, let’s show ‘em how it’s done.”

He turned the key.

Nothing happened.

Dustin frowned.“Dude, quit screwing around.”

Steve scratched his head.“That’s strange.”He turned the key again.Nothing.

Dustin swallowed hard.“Um, I don’t think the engine’s turning over.”

The Kraken burst from the tree line into the field.

It was Dustin’s first good look at the thing.The monster was a stomach-turning mass of legs and claws and tentacles.Spikes and prongs covered its bloated form.The head was an impossible mix of teeth and jaws and eyes straight out of Lovecraftian nightmare.

It lumbered toward them, howling.

Dustin and Steve jumped when Will rapped on the cab’s back window.

“Now would be a good time,” the frail boy said.

“I’m working on it,” Steve said, turning the key again.

“Guys!” Lucas shouted.

“I’m working on it!” Steve yelled.He checked the gear shift, made sure they were in park.He tapped the electrical register on the dashboard.

“Guys!” Lucas shouted again.“Look!”

His flashlight beam picked out a spot near the car.Lying there in the thick grass were the El Camino’s spark plug cables.

Someone had sabotaged the car.

“Oh shit,” whispered Steve.

“Jesus Christ, are you kidding me?” Dustin shouted.

The Kraken was fifty yards away and coming fast.

“Out of the car!” Jonathan yelled.“Everyone out of the car!”

The Party leaped out of the back and ran into the field.Steve and Dustin scrambled from the cab.

“Wait!” Dustin cried.“We need those cables!”

“Henderson, don’t be crazy!” Steve hissed but Dustin wasn’t listening.He raced across the grass and snatched the cables up on the fly.

The Kraken was just thirty yards away.It was coming right at them.

* * *

Steve cursed as Dustin ran for the cables.The kid wasn’t an athlete like Lucas or a daredevil like Max.That didn’t seem to stop him from doing crazy shit that was going to get him killed one day.

But not today.Not if Steve could help it.

“Come on, Henderson, let’s go!” Steve shouted.Then Dustin had the cables and was sprinting toward him.They ran for it as the Kraken shambled across the field.Steve hadn’t thought a creature so big could move so fast.

They were in a bad spot.The creature had them boxed in against the cliffs.They had a little room to run, but eventually there would be nowhere to go but down.It was hundreds of feet from the cliff tops to the river below.Jumping would be suicide.

It would beat being eaten.

The Kraken came toward them, roaring, and Steve’s heart sank.The El Camino - _his_ El Camino - was right in its path.

“Oh no,” he groaned.“No no no.Not my car.”

Last year he’d lost a ‘64 Impala on this island.Losing the El Camino too just didn’t seem _fair_.

His stomach knotted with terror as one enormous, crab-like leg came down just to the right of the car.The hulking body dragged by to the left.Another leg came down and another.Each missed the car with inches to spare.The last two legs slammed into the turf.

Then the beast was clear.

Steve’s car was still there.

He couldn’t believe it.He watched anxiously.There had to be something else.The monster had to hit the car with a tentacle or smash it with its tail.That’s the way the world worked.

But nothing happened.The El Camino was untouched.Its silver grill gleamed in the moonlight and the Kraken hadn’t even scratched the paint.

For one brief second, Steve Harrington wondered if the universe was finally done torturing him.

Then the Kraken opened its great five-jawed mouth and roared loud enough to make his ears ring.

Ah, he’d forgotten.A hideous monster from the depths of space and time was trying to kill him.It was almost a relief.Steve had gotten so used to being shit out of luck, he wasn’t sure what he would do if things ever went his way.

The Kraken’s legs, part crab, part spider, pounded the turf as it charged.It lashed out with its tentacles and the Party dove for cover.Earth and grass flew high as the awful tendrils whipped about.

Max raised the shotgun and fired.The buckshot rattled harmlessly off the monster’s thick hide.

“Scatter!” Steve yelled.“Don’t give it a target!”

The Party split apart, racing through the grass toward the cliff edge.The Kraken paused for a moment, a shark deciding which fish in the school to chase.Then it veered toward Max.The red-haired girl shrieked and scrambled across the field.Lucas ran to her side, his pipe at the ready.

“Go, Max,” he hissed.“Run!”

The dark-skinned boy faced the Kraken.He raised the pipe, knowing it was hopeless but ready to go down swinging.

“Oh no you don’t!” Steve shouted.He charged the monster, flailing at it with his bat.The nails gouged the creature’s hide, but the skin was so thick he was barely drawing blood.

He realized that Jonathan was beside him.The two young men battered away at the Kraken, drawing its attention from Max and Lucas.

It was clear they were fighting a lost cause.

A tentacle with a gaping, toothy mouth lashed out.Jonathan dodged, the jaws snapping inches from his head, but the thick bulk of the tentacle slammed into his chest.He sailed across the field, landing on his back in the grass.He lay there, groaning.

“Jonathan!” Will yelled.The boy sprinted through the grass toward his brother.

The Kraken turned its full focus on Steve.

For a moment, the two adversaries regarded each other.Steve spun the bat in his hand.The creature was the size of a house.This was going to be ugly.

He scanned the field.All of the kids were a good thirty yards away from the beast.Safe for now, but still boxed in with the cliff at their backs.Steve caught Dustin’s eye and gave him a little nod.

“I’ll keep it occupied,” Steve called.“You help Will with Jonathan.Look for your chance.If you guys see an opening, run for it.”

“What about you?” Dustin yelled.

“Don’t worry.I’ll be right behind you.”

It was a lie and they both knew it.

The Kraken’s breath was like a bellows.Long tendrils of saliva dripped from its jaws into the grass.Steve could have sworn the thing was studying him, like a cat puzzling over a bug it was about to eat.

_This is what it’s about,_ Steve thought._Making a stand.Going into battle against impossible odds because someone’s got to do it._

It was like the battle of Agincourt in Shakespeare’s _Henry V_. Six thousand men faced down an army five times their size.Henry gave his St. Crispin’s Day speech about how they would all go down in legend.

_That Bill Shakespeare,_ Steve thought, _he fucking got it.When it comes to making your life count, that Elizabethan dude knew his shit._

The Kraken took a step forward, twisting its head from side to side, as if wanting to see Steve from every angle before it killed him.

Steve got into his batter’s stance.

_Come on, let’s do this._

A voice called out from the cliffs behind him.“Steve!Try this!”

Steve looked back.

It was Mike fucking Wheeler. El was right beside him.

Mike had a spear in his hand and as Steve watched, the black-haired boy wound up and hurled it like a javelin.As he came out of his follow-through, he gasped and clutched his side.

Steve watched the spear whistle through the night.

Mike had never been a good athlete.To be honest, the kid was awful.But it was the best throw Steve had ever seen him make.The spear landed point-first in the ground just a yard from Steve’s side.

Orange lightning flickered across the gleaming silver spearhead.

_Wow_, Steve thought._There was a spear, just like Wheeler said_. _And it’s badass._

The Kraken snarled, jerking back as if it recognized the weapon.The beast was suddenly wary.It arranged itself, planting its great legs, clacking its jaws, preparing for combat.

Steve tossed his bat aside and grabbed the spear.The lightning at the tip grew into long, crackling arcs.

“Henderson!” Steve called.“Get to the car.Put the cables back and get the motor running.”

“But Steve, you’ve got the keys!” the curly-haired boy shouted.

“You’re supposed to be the tech genius, hotwire it or something!”

Dustin wrung his hands nervously.“Hotwire it.Right.”

“Will, Mike, El,” Steve continued, “get Jonathan.Get him into the back of the car.Max, you’re cover fire. Lucas, you keep her safe.”

The Party nodded.Steve was taking charge and they weren’t going to argue.

“Harrington!” Max called.“What are you going to do?”

Steve smiled grimly.“I’m going to show this ugly bitch how we do things in Hawkins.”

He stepped toward the Kraken, spear at the ready.The orange lightning arced and crackled.

The monster screamed.

Steve screamed back.

* * *

The spear was... brilliant.

It was so light in Steve’s hands.It moved where he needed it, when he needed it.He’d never fought with a spear before in his life - never even picked one up - but somehow with this weapon it was instinctive.

Maybe the damn thing really was magic.

Steve battled.He ducked and dodged, he anticipated the blows, and he struck back.

He wasn’t the naive preppy of three years ago, the one who fought a demogorgon in the Byers house without even knowing what it was.No, Steve Harrington was a veteran.He’d gone toe to toe with the Upside Down.His reflexes were honed.He knew how these transdimensional monsters moved, how they thought.

He knew if he went _here_, the Kraken would go _there_.

He could see the tentacles coming from a mile away and he blocked them with the spear.The weapon was incredible.It was so strong for all its lightness.It was made of some material that Steve didn’t recognize but it seemed stronger than steel.

The Kraken focused on him.At the edge of his vision, he saw Dustin and the other kids slip past the beast and run for the car.The Party had seen their opening.They’d taken it.Now they just needed time.

Steve rolled under a claw, leaped a razor-edged flipper, then slapped away a tentacle.He stabbed with the spear.The lightning-tipped head crackled against something, a purple nimbus of light that pulsed and flickered.It was only visible when it kept the spear from driving home.

The Kraken was drawing on the Upside Down to protect itself, Steve realized.It was blocking the spear with a shield of power that kept the deadly lightning away.

Steve started sweating.The Kraken was enormous.It was fast.Its skin was like steel plate.It had tentacles and legs and claws and teeth and all it needed was for him to make one mistake.

Even with the power of the Spear of Destiny, Steve knew there was only one way this was going to end.

He wasn’t going to make it.

He didn’t need to make it.

All he had to do was last long enough for Henderson to get the car started.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Dustin slam the hood of the El Camino.The spark plug cables must be back in place.The curly-haired boy jumped into the driver’s seat.He wrestled with the steering column, exposing the ignition so he could hotwire the car.

Mike, El and Will pulled Jonathan into the El Camino’s bed.Max stood guard with her shotgun, Lucas at her side.

Steve just needed to give them thirty more seconds.

He wasn’t sure he could.

There were so many tentacles, so many claws.Steve was fighting with all the skill of a Professional Monster Hunter but the Kraken was way out of his league.

He feinted, spun and jabbed.The Kraken wasn’t quick enough.The spear glanced off its purple force shield and skittered along its hide.Showers of electricity cascaded from the tip.The blow wasn’t enough to pierce the creature’s thick skin, but the way the beast screamed, it must have hurt.

There was no time to celebrate.Steve had overextended and left himself open.He saw the Kraken’s great claw descending, as if in slow motion.His mind screamed, _Move, move!_ but he knew it was too late.

Then the monster howled and the claw jerked sideways, burying itself in the ground inches to Steve’s left.

Dart was on the Kraken’s back with his teeth in its neck.

The demodog buried his front talons in the monster’s hide.Then he flexed his powerful hind legs and started to _dig_.

The Kraken howled as its ochre blood sprayed across the field.Dart ripped great gashes in the creature’s back with claws that could rend stone.

Steve didn’t hesitate.He stabbed again.The Kraken’s force shield was erratic.It couldn’t stop the blow, just deflect it.There was another shower of orange lightning as the spear tip raked across the monster’s hide.Steve cursed as he once again failed to break the skin.

Despite that, he felt a flicker of hope.The odds were long, but with Dart’s help and the power of the spear, he just might beat this thing.

Then a tentacle wrapped itself around the demodog.The Kraken ripped Dart from its back and threw him across the field.He landed hard. He didn’t get up.

* * *

Dustin touched the ignition wires together and the El Camino’s engine roared to life.He whooped in triumph, looking up just in time to see Dart go hurtling across the field.

Dustin was out of the cab before he knew what he was doing.“Max!” he shouted, “take the wheel!”Then he was running into the night, the long grasses whipping about his legs.

He heard the Party behind him, screaming at him to stop.He didn’t listen.He’d almost lost Dart once before in this field and he wasn’t going to leave the demodog behind again.

If anyone asked why he did it, Dustin could say that leaving Dart was simply unthinkable.The demodog was an incredible specimen.He was the only known example of transdimensional interspecies cooperation.The scientific treasures he could unlock were limitless.

It was all true, but it wasn’t the real reason.It wasn’t science that made Dustin sprint across that field.

He did it because Dart was his friend.

In moments Dustin was at the demodog’s side.The creature wasn’t moving, but his chest slowly rose and fell.He was still alive.

Dustin hooked his arms under Dart’s front legs and started dragging him.The demodog was so heavy.Every yard seemed to take forever.

Off to Dustin’s right, he could see Steve battling the Kraken.The older boy was a blaze of action.His spear crackled with electricity, throwing showers of orange and purple sparks into the air like an arc welder.

Dustin dragged Dart a few more yards.He was already gasping for breath.

He heard the Party shouting from the direction of the El Camino. They were shouting Mike’s name. El’s voice was the loudest of all.

Then Mike was beside him.

“Let me take one side,” the black-haired boy said.

Dustin didn’t ask questions.He gratefully made room for Mike and they dragged the demodog together.There was still so far to go.

They’d barely gone ten yards when the Kraken stepped into their path and there was nowhere to go at all.

Dustin’s eyes flicked across the field.Behind the Kraken, the Party huddled around the El Camino, screaming.Tears streamed down El’s face as she cried Mike’s name.Off to the right, Steve was pulling himself up off the ground, shaking his head.He’d taken a blow that had knocked him sprawling.

Dustin had to crane his neck to see the Kraken’s gruesome head with its five-jawed mouth.The creature had seemed big, but he didn’t really appreciate its size until he saw it up close.

A long, glistening strand of saliva dripped from the Kraken’s jaws and dangled in front of Dustin’s face.

Things had definitely taken a turn for the worse.

A shotgun blast rang out and the Kraken wheeled toward the El Camino.Max chambered another round, waiting fearfully for the monster to charge.But the Kraken just snorted and turned back to Dustin.

Then it jerked back, growling.

Steve was there, standing between it and its prey, his spear ablaze with lightning.“Going back for a demodog,” he said through gritted teeth.“Not your best idea, guys.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Dustin said.“I couldn’t leave him behind.”

Mike didn’t say anything.

The Kraken reared up, howling.It towered into the sky, legs and claws and tentacles splayed out all around it.

The young men braced themselves for the killing blow and then the fireworks started.

Real fireworks.

They went off a mile away upriver.They weren’t the little rockets sold in the stores.These were starbursts and showers like the professionals made.They burst in yellow and green and silver, lighting up the night sky.

The Kraken froze.It looked at the glittering display, jaws agape.It seemed... fascinated.

There were more bursts, now in red and purple and gold.The beast watched the explosions, utterly transfixed.

“What the hell...?” Steve muttered.

Then the Kraken bellowed, shouting its rage at the sky.It wheeled about and lurched toward the woods, barking at the pyrotechnics as it went.Dustin could have sworn it was trying to bite them out of the air.

He couldn’t believe it.

The Kraken was chasing fireworks.

The monster lumbered past the El Camino and the Party scrambled for cover.The creature didn’t even notice them.

For a moment no one said anything and then Steve blurted, “In the car, now!”

“Not without Dart!” Dustin shouted.

Steve grimaced but took one of the demodog’s legs and started dragging.The boys moved quickly now.The fireworks sparkled above them, painting the field in pulses of green and red and blue.

“Who in the world is setting off fireworks at one in the morning?” Dustin wondered.

“Well, it is the Fourth of July,” Mike gasped.He was wincing and favoring one side as he pulled.

“But at one in the morning?”

“Probably some drunken hicks,” said Steve.“I would say trouble-making teens but I think we’ve got that market cornered.”

In moments they reached the El Camino.The rest of the Party gathered around and together they lifted Dart’s heavy form into the back of the car.As they eased the demodog into the bed, Jonathan blinked awake.

“I should start wearing a helmet,” the older boy groaned.“Those things keep knocking me out.”

“Lucky you’ve got that thick skull,” said Will.His voice was teasing but he was clearly relieved to see his brother was okay, if somewhat the worse for wear.

Jonathan snorted, rubbing his head.“I knew there was something Nancy liked about me.”

As they got Dart settled, Dustin couldn’t miss the way El looked at Mike.There were so many things in her expression - love, worry, anger, frustration.Mike was carefully avoiding her eyes.

_Mike played the Paladin again,_ Dustin thought, _because of me and Dart.Shit._

Cracks and booms echoed from the woods.The Kraken was still chasing the fireworks.Dustin could hear the thunder as the creature splashed into the river, throwing up waves that soaked the shore.

“Let’s go,” Steve said.“While we’ve still got the chance.”

* * *

They hurtled down the road.Steve was at the wheel and Dustin in the cab beside him.The older boy didn’t spare the gas, whipping the big car through the switchbacks as fast as he could.For a moment there was only the growl of the engine and the squeal of the tires as they flashed through the turns.

“We got away with that one,” Steve said finally.“But going back for Dart was a real bonehead move, Henderson.What were you thinking?”The older boy kept his voice low and even, but Dustin could hear the anger in it.

“He’s my friend, Steve,” Dustin said.

Steve’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.“He’s a _demodog_.”

“He saved my life, more than once,” Dustin said.“He saved yours too.”

“You almost got yourself killed.And Mike.And me.”

“He’s my _friend_.”

Steve didn’t say anything but his face was clouded with fury.

“You know, you’re one to talk,” Dustin said, starting to get angry himself.“You spend a lot of time fighting those monsters all by yourself.I mean you’re always like, ‘I’ll hold them off!The rest of you run for it!’Does that sound familiar?Christ, Steve, you just did it again tonight.”

The older boy stared silently ahead, watching the road.

“So what is it?” Dustin demanded.“You’re allowed to risk your life and I’m not?”

Steve didn’t say anything.

Dustin slapped the dashboard.“Answer me!You’re allowed to risk your life and I’m not?”

“Yes!” Steve barked.“That’s right, kid!I’m allowed to risk my life and you’re not!”

“How is that fair!” Dustin shouted.

Steve’s face turned crimson.“Because I’m good at this!” he yelled.“Because this is all I’m good at!”

Dustin’s mouth snapped shut.He’d expected anger.He hadn’t expected that.

He sat in stunned silence.

Steve shook his head.When the older boy finally spoke his voice was soft.“You’re good at so much more.”He sighed.“There are so many things you can do with your life, Henderson.You can be so much better than me.”

The El Camino rumbled onto the bridge.In moments it was in the trees on the far side.Off in the distance, the Kraken sloshed down the river.The fireworks burst in the sky above.

Dustin and Steve watched the road roll away ahead of them.They didn’t speak.There wasn’t anything else to say.

They were still quiet when Steve stopped in front of the Byers’ house and turned off the engine.The clouds were thick in the sky above and it started to rain.

The storm was finally here.


	23. The Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I’m sorry this chapter has taken so long. I’m afraid work has been intruding on my writing time, including my weekends. Sadly, every now and then I have to pay the bills. Things should be quieting down at work (knock wood) so I’m hoping to get back on my usual schedule soon.
> 
> On the bright side, this is a pretty long chapter, so hopefully the content was worth the wait... We’re now into the final Act, and everything will be coming to a head.
> 
> Let me take this opportunity to give much, much love to everyone reading along, and a special shout out to my commenters! Hearing what you all think about the story, good and bad, is so much fun and absolutely makes my day. You all are the best and thank you so much!

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The storm crashed against the shore and the rain fell hard. Will Byers took the Spear of Destiny from the car and walked through the downpour to his house. He didn’t mind getting wet. After fighting an extradimensional horror at Whateley House, a little rain didn’t seem so bad.

They’d won. They’d found the spear, fought off the Kraken and escaped with their lives. To Will’s surprise, the spear seemed to be what the old colonial books had promised – an extraordinary weapon that was deadly to the Upside Down. They had what they needed to carry the fight to the enemy. By all measures, the night was a victory.

Why didn’t it feel like a victory?

They’d barely survived. Mike, Steve and Dustin were alive thanks to pure dumb luck. Jonathan was nursing another beating. El and Mike weren’t talking and neither were Dustin and Steve. As for the spear, it had slain a demogorgon but it hadn’t done much against the Kraken.

If this was winning, Will didn’t want to see losing.

He paused at the front door. Dustin was still at the car, hovering over Dart. Lucas and Max were with him. As Will watched, Dart stood and shook the rain off his skin like a dog - a big, scaly, hideous dog with a fondness for killing things. The demodog glowed a faint purple and Will realized he was drawing on the Upside Down to heal his injuries. In moments, Dart was well enough to leap from the car. Dustin, Lucas and Max ran for the house and the demodog followed.

Will couldn’t help shrinking back as Dart approached him, growling and snarling. As it turned out, the creature just wanted to talk. _You, young human, the One-Who-Was-Us,_ said the demodog. _Tell the Hive that I sensed the power of a Node when I fought God. We will need to plan for it the next time we face Him._

Then Dart nudged Will, almost knocking him over. There was a lot of force behind the push, but Will realized it was supposed to be affectionate.

_I should be dead but I am alive_, Dart barked. _You are my Hive. _ The creature turned and loped away into the woods.

“What was that all about?” Max asked.

Will shook his head. He didn’t have the faintest idea what the demodog was talking about. What was a Node? Not for the first time, he wished he could ask Dart questions, but his communication with the Upside Down only went one way.

“I’m not sure,” Will said. “All I can tell you is I think he likes us.”

* * *

By the time El woke up, the sun was shining and the rain was gone. The clock by her bedside said it was already after nine. Max snored softly beside her.

El rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts, inevitably, turned to Mike. They always turned to Mike. He was the last thing she thought about at night and the first thing she thought about in the morning. She thought about the way he looked, the things he said, the sound of his voice. She thought about the beauty of his eyes when they looked into hers, and the warm, blissful, sometimes anxious way he made her feel. Thinking about him was a joy.

Usually.

Mike loved her, she knew he did, but some part of him seemed bound and determined to break her heart.

The smell of bacon and spiced potatoes drifted into the room. Joyce was cooking breakfast. El slid out of bed and Max murmured, blinking awake. El pulled on a pair of shorts and tried to fix her sleep-rumpled hair, her thoughts drifting as she fussed in the mirror.

Mike had charged into danger _four times_ last night.

It was hard to blame him for leaping after her when she slid down the ramp into the catacombs. She’d called his name after all, the way she always did when she was scared. She couldn’t blame him for attacking the Russian, either. The man had pulled a gun and tried to kidnap them, what was Mike supposed to do? El had even thrown her torch to distract the man and give Mike an opening.

Then there was the demogorgon.

El sighed. Jumping on a demogorgon’s back was just about the stupidest thing she’d ever seen Mike do, and she’d seen him do some pretty stupid things.

She still couldn’t be upset at him, not even for that. Mike loved her _so_ much – it made her giddy when she thought about how much he loved her – and he would never have let her face the demogorgon alone. When he attacked the monster, he was the Mike she’d fallen in love with. He was her protector, her hero, her knight fighting a dragon for his princess. El could never, ever blame him for that. It’s what made her want to hug him and kiss him and knot her hands in his hair and press their bodies together until every part of them touched.

The Kraken though...

El frowned at herself in the mirror. The Kraken was a different story. When Mike ran into that field to help Dustin with Dart, she had just snapped. That wasn’t Mike the protector. That wasn’t the white knight. That was Mike looking for a blaze of glory. He put his life on the line for a _demodog_ and it made El want to scream.

She pushed the thought aside and patted at her hair. She had a cowlick that simply refused to be tamed. She brushed it and dabbed it with water, but it was no use. She’d have to go to breakfast with her hair a mess and then run for the shower.

Great. She hadn’t spoken to Mike since they left Whateley House and when they finally talked she’d look like a clown.But there was no avoiding it.She _needed_ to talk to him.

El hadn’t meant to shut him out last night. It was just her way when she had a problem. By the time they got home, she’d been so lost in her own head that all she wanted to do was retreat to her bedroom to think.She’d walked off without even saying goodnight.

Worst of all, she was in bed in her pajamas before she remembered her promise to Mike.When they were in the catacombs, she’d told him they would do sexy things once they got home. She’d been so consumed by her worries that she’d forgotten. She felt awful. Mike must have been so disappointed.

She was a little worried that he hadn’t reminded her. He’d been so eager and excited before. Maybe the demogorgon had hurt him worse than he was letting on.

Maybe it was for the best, El told herself. It’s not like there was anywhere they could have gone. The bedrooms were occupied and Steve was sleeping on the couch. They could have tried the kitchen or the dining room, but anyone might have walked in on them. They could have gone outside, but of course there was the storm.

Images stirred in El’s imagination. The storm. The raw power of nature, all of its sound and fury. A vision crept into her mind – a vision of her riding Mike in the pouring rain, water cascading over their bodies while thunder rolled and lightning flashed. The trees swayed in the howling wind and the grass lashed around them, but they didn’t care. They were lost in the feel of each other. She imagined digging her nails into Mike’s porcelain skin with every thunderclap. She could almost feel his mouth on her wet breasts, her fingers tangled in his rain-soaked hair. Her hips would be surging, grinding her aching core against Mike’s erection as the water poured over them…

“Earth to El!” Max said, waving her hand in front of El’s face. “Anyone home in there?”

El blinked out of her reverie, startled. She realized she’d been staring blankly in the mirror, not moving, biting her lower lip as images of a hot, wet encounter with Mike played through her mind.

“Sorry,” El said, blushing.

“Geez, El, you’re a total space cadet these days,” Max teased. “What were you thinking about? As if I couldn’t guess.”

El blushed harder.

“Uh huh,” Max said wryly. “Figures. Look, I know it can be frustrating, El, but you’re doing the right thing. Stay strong.”

“What do you mean?” El asked, confused.

“You know, cutting Mike off.”

El was still confused. “Cutting him off?”

“I know he pissed you off last night with his white knight shit. Then when we got home he clearly wanted to be with you, but you were like ‘Nope! Going to bed.’ It was great. That’s how you manage a guy.”

“He wanted to be with me?” El asked anxiously. Oh, this was terrible. She hadn’t realized.

“Totally!” Max laughed.“But that’s how you get a guy to behave. You have to let him know he’s not getting any until he gets his act together.”

El shook her head, utterly baffled. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Max. Not getting any what?”

“Oh for—” Max threw up her hands. “Sex, El! Not getting any sex! Trust me. It works every time. If your guy gets out of line, you cut him off from the goodies until he sees things your way.”

El stared at Max, bewildered. Stop doing sexy things with Mike? That didn’t make any sense at all. They felt _so_ good and made her feel _so_ close to him. Why in the world would she stop?

El liked Max, she really did, but the red-haired girl had some very strange ideas.

* * *

Mike was already at the breakfast table when El arrived. His long hair was mussed from sleep and he moved slowly, nursing his side where the demogorgon had sunk its claw.

When she walked into the room he looked at her with anxious puppy dog eyes and it broke her heart. He must have thought she’d deliberately gone to bed without doing the sexy things she’d promised. He must think she was punishing him. She couldn’t wait until breakfast was over so they could talk. Things always got better when they talked.

She spooned some eggs and potatoes onto her plate, then sat down next to him. She didn’t know what to say. There was an awkward silence.

“You look beautiful,” Mike said softly.

She blushed, patting at her cowlick.“No, I don’t.My hair’s a mess.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

She smiled just a little and his face lit up with a relieved grin. She leaned close to him. “Mike, can we talk later?”

“Of course,” he said, and the anxious look was back on his face.

Steve and Dustin came to the table. For a moment, the two boys stared at each other. Then they clasped hands and Steve pulled Dustin into a one-armed hug. There was some backslapping, Steve tousled Dustin’s curly hair, and then they grabbed plates and started piling them with food. All was forgiven.

El grimaced. It was so easy for boys. They fought, they shook hands, and it was over. She remembered all those years ago when Mike and Lucas fought over her, both of them crazy with worry over Will. The boys had gone their separate ways for a while, but then a handshake made it all better.

It was never like that for her and Mike. No matter how much they loved each other, every time they stumbled into a disagreement, things were awful. El would withdraw, hiding herself away while she tried to figure out the problem. Mike would pretend there wasn’t a problem, putting on a smile so no one would know he was hurt. They’d tiptoe around each other for hours or days. Then finally they’d talk and make everything all right.

She wished they could just shake hands and hug and their problems would go away, but it was never that easy.

Breakfast was quiet. The Party were mulling over the events of the night before and no one wanted to talk in front of Joyce.

“What were you up to last night?” El’s mother asked at one point. “You all slept in. I had to start cooking just to get you out of bed.”

The Party exchanged nervous glances.

“Star Wars double feature,” Dustin said smoothly. “We should have stopped after the first one, but _Empire Strikes Back_ is so cool.”

After breakfast, Will cleared the table, Jonathan washed the dishes, and El dried them. She watched through the kitchen window as the Party went into the backyard, enjoying a perfect day after the storm of the night before.

She saw Max and Lucas holding hands and talking quietly as they strolled in the sunshine. Lucas pulled Max into a hug. The red-haired girl laughed and nuzzled his neck. El had never seen them so openly affectionate before.

She smiled, remembering the way Lucas faced down the Kraken to protect his girlfriend. It seemed every girl had a soft spot for a hero, even Max Mayfield.

As she finished the dishes, Mike came into the kitchen. “Do you want to go for a walk, El?” he asked.He was nervous, fidgeting, unsure where to put his hands.

She smiled gently but shook her head and gestured at her unruly hair. “I should take a shower. I need to fix this.”

“Oh.Okay.” He pasted one of his I’m-not-hurt smiles on his face.

“Maybe after?” she said, realizing he was feeling rejected and wanting to reassure him.

“After,” he said.He looked relieved. “Yes. That’d be great.” For a moment his eyes searched her face and then he reached out and gently patted her cowlick. “I know you want to fix your hair, but I kind of like the new look.”

“You’re teasing,” El said, but her smile didn’t fade.

“Maybe a little,” Mike told her. “But I always love the way you look.”

El stepped closer to him, her hands brushing across his chest, smoothing out his shirt. “Mike...”

He looked at the floor and took a deep breath. “El… I’m sorry.I didn’t mean to upset you last night. You know... with Dustin and Dart.”

“It’s okay, Mike,” she told him. She wasn’t sure she meant it but she wanted to mean it. “Dustin is your friend. You love him. I know you couldn’t leave him.”

“Still… I know you don’t like it when I do things like that.” He shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know what gets into me sometimes.”

“Mike…” She sighed. “I love how brave you are. I love how you protect your friends. I love how you protect me. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

She pulled him into a hug. “It just scares me, Mike,” she said. “When you do those things… it scares me. I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry I got upset but I don’t want to lose you.”

Mike was quiet for a moment but his arms tightened around her. He hugged her against him so hard it almost hurt, but she didn’t care. She molded herself to him, her head tucked under his chin, her hands stroking his back, so glad to feel him warm and alive in her arms.

He tilted her chin up and kissed her gently, his lips soft on hers. “You won’t lose me, El,” he told her.

She nodded and snuggled into his chest. She knew it was a lie.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Mike stared up at the pale blue sky and the feathery clouds as El wound flowers in his hair. His head was pillowed in her lap and his legs were stretched out in the grass. He was warm in the summer sun. In this moment, he wasn’t thinking about Krakens or spears or Russians or any of the rest. There was just him and El and the sun and the sky, and for a little while Mike Wheeler was happy.

El leaned over and kissed him now and then, their faces inverted so the kiss was upside down. It was new and different and El giggled every time she did it. She stroked his face and teased his hair and her smile was so full of joy it made Mike’s heart ache.

He sighed, enjoying the view of the sky and El’s pretty face and – he couldn’t lie – the delightful way her boobs pushed into his line of sight every time she moved. She wore a thin, white linen shirt that she’d tied up underneath those perky breasts so her midriff was exposed. Mike smiled, not quite believing that he knew what her breasts looked like now, that he’d seen them, touched them, kissed them. The last few days with her felt like a dream and he kept expecting to wake up, but he never did. The dream just went on and on, so it could only be real.

He tried to concentrate on the sky and the feeling of El’s fingers in his hair. If he focused too much on her boobs, he’d almost certainly pitch a tent in his jeans.He didn’t think El would mind, and the rest of the Party were distracted with a game of Five Hundred, but still - decorum.Better to focus on other things, like how wonderful the world was because El was in it.

As hard as he tried to enjoy the moment, his mind had other ideas. Darkness bled into the edges of his happiness. He found himself back in the field, watching Dustin trying to drag Dart to safety. Emotions churned in Mike’s heart – fear, worry, friendship… _eagerness_. When he sprinted to Dustin’s side to risk his life against the Kraken, Mike felt like he’d been bound up in shackles and was suddenly free.

El had been so upset. Mike felt awful about that. He’d gone off playing the Paladin even though he knew how much it hurt her. But he couldn’t stop. He saw a friend in danger and he had to try to save them and damn the consequences.

A fluttering echoed in his mind, the sound of black raven wings. _Damn the consequences_.

The darkness swirled in Mike, tearing at every good thing in his soul.He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and banished the blackness with an act of pure will. He spent so much of his life down in the hole he’d dug for himself.He refused to give up this moment to crawl in there now. The day was beautiful, the most amazing girl in the world had crowned him with flowers, and he was blanketed in love. Nothing would spoil this.He wouldn’t let it go bad.

El bent over him and kissed him with soft, wet lips. When she broke the kiss, Mike smiled. “Do that again,” he said.

And she did.

He lost himself in the taste of her lips and the feel of her hair spilling over his face.

A shout interrupted his reverie.

“Will! Jonathan! El!”

It was Mrs. Byers. ‘Furious’ didn’t do justice to her tone. She was on the patio, hands on hips, her face a mask of rage. Dr. Owens stood next to her.

Mike had a feeling they were in big trouble.

* * *

The Party sat quietly around the new coffee table as Joyce raged at them. She started giving them a proper earful even before they got settled. She focused on Jonathan and Steve, the “adults” of the group, but no one was spared. Mike took his share of the barrage, Joyce singling him out as the ringleader of last night’s adventure.

Which, to be fair, he was.

Dr. Owens looked almost apologetic during the tongue-lashing. The three men with him just looked bemused.

The men were soldiers of some kind, dressed in camouflage fatigues, flak vests, and combat boots. They looked fit and extremely dangerous.Mike exchanged glances with Lucas, nodding subtly at the men’s sidearms.

As Joyce wound down from her fifteen minute rant, Dr. Owens spoke in the calm, pleasant tone that was his trademark.

“Sorry, kids,” he said, “I get the feeling I threw you under the bus there. I really thought Joyce knew where you were last night. It didn’t occur to me that you’d snuck off on your own. My bad.”

Jonathan and Steve shrugged, afraid to say anything that might send Joyce into another tirade.

“How did you know we snuck out?” Dustin asked. Mike rolled his eyes. He loved Dustin, but the boy never knew when to keep his mouth shut. Luckily Mrs. Byers was exhausted from her rant and she stayed quiet.

“I told you I have assets,” Dr. Owens said. “They help me keep tabs on things. We didn’t see everything that happened last night, but I think we got the highlight reel. Like that Loch Ness monster thing. Yeesh.”

“We call it the Kraken,” said Lucas.

“Good name,” Owens said. “You all were lucky to get away from it. The three yahoos shooting off fireworks in the woods – not so much.”

Joyce’s eyes narrowed and Owens hurried on before she could start yelling again. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me introduce my colleagues.” He pointed to one of the soldiers, a rugged, handsome man with a shock of bristling brown hair and steely blue eyes. “This is Lieutenant Remo.” The man nodded.

The Party stared.

Max cleared her throat. “Um, has anyone ever told you…” she began.

“Yes,” Remo sighed, “all the time.” His companions chuckled.

“Well, it’s not like it’s a bad thing,” Max told him. Lucas gave her a sharp look and she shrugged apologetically.

Mike had to admit the resemblance was uncanny. Remo looked just like Michael Biehn, star of _Aliens_ and _The Terminator. _ The two men could have been twins.

Owens gestured to the next soldier, a sturdy black man with a carefully trimmed mustache and a well chewed, unlit cigar. “This is Sergeant Aponte.” The sergeant tossed off a casual salute. “Next to him is Corporal Lineker.” The corporal was a tall, heavily muscled man with pale skin and a buzz cut so blonde it was almost white.

“Are these guys your team?” Dustin asked, clearly awed by the men’s uniforms and weapons and air of easy confidence. “Those commandos you told us about yesterday?”

“Part of it,” Owens confirmed. “Remo’s my team leader and Aponte’s his number one. Corporal Lineker specializes in – how should I say this? – hard targets.”

“That’s a good way to say it,” Remo said in a low, raspy drawl. “It’s nice meeting you folks.”

_Christ_, Mike thought, _the guy even sounds like Michael Biehn._

“The rest of the team are mustering outside of town,” Dr. Owens continued, “gearing up for the op tonight.”

“There’s an op tonight?” Steve asked, clearly impressed.

“That’s right,” Owens said, “and it’s almost game time.That’s why we’re here.I’ve got a hunch you kids know some things that would be very useful to us.”

Sergeant Aponte took the cigar out of his mouth and smiled. “I love actionable intel.”

“So what is this operation?” Mike asked, his voice coming out higher pitched than he’d expected. He cleared his throat, scowling.

“The one we’ve all been waiting for,” Owens said. “Lieutenant Remo and his team are going to launch a raid on the Project, shut down the Gate, and make sure Martin Brenner goes away for a long, long time.”

“Holy shit,” said Steve.

El tensed at the sound of Brenner’s name. Her hand found Mike’s and she twined her fingers in his. He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s great,” Mike said. “How can we help?”

Owens leaned over to Aponte.“Didn’t I tell you he was a good kid?”Then Sam sat back in his chair and smiled.“Just tell us what you know, Mike.Tell us what you know.”

* * *

Mike broke it down for them. The Gate from colonial times. The Freemasons and their battle with the Upside Down. The Party’s trip to Whateley House, the adventure in the catacombs, and the battle with Grigori and the demogorgon. He finished with the unearthly power of the Spear of Destiny and the terror of the Kraken.

When he was done there was silence. Mrs. Byers’ eyes were wide with shock or fear or some mix of both. Dr. Owens and his team looked politely skeptical.

“That’s quite a story, kid,” Owens said at last.

“It’s not a story,” Mike said firmly. “You said yourself you saw the Kraken.”

“I did say that,” Owens admitted.

“Look, it’s helpful context,” said Remo, “but… magic spear?”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “So monsters from another dimension you’re good with, but magic spears are too much?”

“It’s not magic,” Dustin insisted. “It’s a transdimensional energy matrix!”

“I’m not saying we don’t believe you,” Owens told Mike. “I’m just saying that from a belief standpoint, we’re not entirely on board.”

“You think we’re lying?” Mike gasped.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying your truth might be… subjective.”

“That’s the same as saying we’re lying!”Mike crossed his arms over his chest, fuming.

Owens threw up his hands, “It is so _not_ the same thing—“

“Easy, people,” Lieutenant Remo interjected. “Maybe we should focus on something a little more productive.Mike, we need to pinpoint the Project’s location. Can you help us with that?”

Mike huffed for a moment, still irritated.Then, reluctantly, he nodded. 

* * *

Soon El’s maps were spread out over the coffee table. Mike pointed out Shingleford Strand.

“The lighthouse is here,” he said. “Pretty close to where we saw the demogorgons in the water when we were out on the _Enola Holmes._” He circled the surrounding area with his finger. “This is the land that the Department of Agriculture has been buying up. It goes about half a mile past the lighthouse to the east and maybe three miles to the west.”

“Department of Agriculture?” Dr. Owens asked. “K Branch?”

“That’s right. How did you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

“We did some aerial reconnaissance of the coast this morning,” Remo said. He nodded at Lineker and the pale-skinned man pulled a sheaf of glossy black-and-white photos from his backpack. The man flipped through the stack and put three of the photos on the coffee table.

“That’s it,” Mike said, pointing to the lighthouse in one of the images.

“Not much to the east,” said Remo, “just an access road. But if you go west…” He tapped a cliff face on the photo with some dark spots at the bottom.

“Those are the sea caves El told us about,” said Steve, “and that line there is the breakwater.”

“The area is some kind of protected harbor,” observed Owens. “These blobs in the water near the shore must be boats. And it looks like there’s a large dock area near the caves.”

“That wasn’t on El’s maps,” Mike said, worried.

“The maps are a few years old, Mike,” El said softly. “If Papa—” she stopped abruptly. “If Dr. Brenner built something recently, it wouldn’t be on them.”

“Well, it looks like Brenner’s been a busy little bee,” Owens murmured.

“Are you sure it’s Brenner?” Joyce asked, her voice thick with anxiety. “Maybe it’s someone else?”

“Oh, it’s Brenner,” Owens assured her. “K Branch is his department.”

“Well, we’ve got three images of the area each taken about an hour apart,” said Remo. “Let’s see what they tell us.” He arranged the photos in time order and the group stared at them.

“There’s not a lot of vehicle traffic,” Aponte said, talking around the cigar clenched between his teeth. “Definitely foot traffic in and out of those caves though.”

Remo nodded. “I make three primary entrances and then this—” he pointed out a smaller opening at the water’s edge, “seems to be some kind of maintenance tunnel. It doesn’t get a lot of use.”

“Neither does the access road by the lighthouse,” said Lineker. “This bigger road here that goes to the harbor gets most of the traffic.”

“They probably bought the lighthouse and the access road just to keep the tourists away,” Mike mused.

Remo nodded. “I think that’s right. It’s about a mile from the lighthouse to the harbor, but anyone who made the walk could look down from the cliffs and do all the spying they want.”

Aponte grunted. “Must be why they put this guard post here by the cliff edge and this other one down by the dock. Just in case anyone gets nosy.”

The room went quiet and everyone stared at the maps and the photos. Finally, Lucas blurted, “So what’s your plan? A frontal assault? Take out the guard posts and go in guns blazing?”

Remo smiled gently. “That’s not really our style.”

“What are you thinking, Lieutenant?” Owens asked.

“Well,” said Remo, “do you see this outcropping here on the west side of the harbor? It obscures line of sight from the dock and the guard posts. If we rappel down behind it at dusk, we could be at the sea caves and into the western tunnel entrance with no one the wiser.”

“Which means you get around the guard posts and anyone in the dock area,” Owens said.

“Exactly. Then if we use stealth tactics in the caves – knives and hand-to-hand – we could work our way to the Gate room. You’ve got to assume we’ll be discovered eventually and at that point we’d go weapons free.”

“What happens then?” Dustin asked, unable to contain himself.

“Well, if we keep some of the team in reserve here on the clifftops...” Remo said, tapping an area north of the harbor. It was a wooded spot, close to where the main road went down the cliffs to the dock.

“Sully’s squad?” Aponte asked.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Remo agreed. “As soon as a firefight starts in the caves, the reserve team would assault these guard posts and the dock. That should draw off enough of Brenner’s goons that the primary team could close the Gate and finish the mission.”

“Uh... How many people do you have?” Jonathan asked.

“Twenty,” said Remo, “including the three of us.”

“And how many does Brenner have?”

“If my sources are right,” Dr. Owens said, “he’s got about fifty Russians and an undisclosed number of… transdimensional entities.”

“Holy shit!” Dustin exclaimed. “You’re going to take on fifty Russians and a bunch of demogorgons with twenty men?”

“That’s right,” said Lineker, smiling grimly. The pale skinned man set a big paw on Dustin’s shoulder. “Brenner should get some more guys so it’s a fair fight.”

“My team are real tough hombres,” Owens said. “Aponte and Lineker were Deltas. Lieutenant Remo was a SEAL. Any member of the team is worth at least five Russians.”

“Ten,” said Aponte.

Owens held up his hands apologetically. “Sorry. Ten.”

“What about the Kraken?” Steve asked. “You’ve got to assume it will be there too. It’s… pretty tough.”

“You must have some kind of missiles to take it out, right?” Dustin asked eagerly.

Remo shook his head. “I’m afraid not. This is a stealth op on American soil.”

“We had to leave the big boy toys behind,” Lineker grunted.

“Then how are you going to stop it?” Max asked. “I fired a shotgun at it last night and it just bounced off.”

“You remember Starcourt, right?” Owens said.“You close the Gate, you kill the body.”

“That’s why it’s really important that we close the Gate,” Remo agreed. “Failure is not an option.”

Mike leaned forward in his seat. “Then you should take the spear. It will be really useful against the Upside Down. It will help you kill the demogorgons and you could use it against the Kraken if things go wrong.”

Aponte sighed and Lineker rolled his eyes. Remo was more polite.“I appreciate the offer, Mike,” the lieutenant said, “but I think we’ve got this covered. We didn’t bring the heavy artillery, but we’ve still got plenty of firepower.”

“You know demogorgons can heal when the Gate is open,” Lucas warned.

“We know,” said Remo.“Even then, an M-16 is nothing to sneer at. And once the Gate is closed and they can’t heal…”

“But what if you can’t close the Gate?” Mike insisted. “What if you have to fight the Kraken? I don’t think M-16s are going to do the job against that thing, but we know the spear will. It has before.”

“You mean back in colonial times?” Lineker snorted. “Come on, kid. By the sound of things it didn’t do you much good last night.”

Remo held up a cautioning hand. “Ease down, Corporal. Look, Mike, I really do appreciate the offer, but hauling an antique weapon around when we rappel down the cliffs and sneak through the tunnels would be awkward. Don’t worry, son. We’ve got this.”

Mike sat back, frustrated. El stroked his arm, trying to soothe him.

“So what’s the plan, Lieutenant?” Owens asked.

Remo checked his watch. “Well, it’s 1500 hours now…”

“What?” asked El.

Remo smiled. “Sorry, miss. Three pm.”

“Oh.” El looked at Mike, confused.

“I’ll explain later,” he whispered and she nodded.

“We know the Project’s location now,” Remo continued, “so we can use the next few hours to recon the target.” He pointed out locations on the site photo. “The assault and reserve teams will assemble here and here at 1800, then move into final positions on the clifftops at 1830. At 1900—”

“Seven pm,” Mike whispered to El.

“—the assault team will advance to the cliff edge and rappel down behind this outcropping, then advance into the far west tunnel. The sun will be going down so light will be low, but that’s in our favor, not theirs. Then we execute the plan – we use stealth until discovered, then continue our advance under covering fire while the reserve team secures the dock and the guard posts. Once the Gate is down, we can decide whether to disengage or to sweep the site and clear it.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Owens said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll come along for the ride.”

“Understood, sir,” Remo said. “But you stay with Sully’s reserve team. When they advance, I want you to stay up on the cliff top. For your own safety, sir.”

“Trust me,” Owens smiled, “that’s my top priority.”

The room went quiet, the Party staring at the maps and photos and the dangerous men who were about to take down the Project. Remo waited for a moment and then nodded to Aponte and Lineker. “All right, people.Let’s move like we’ve got a purpose.”

Joyce stood up. “I’m going with you.”

For a moment the Party stared in shock and then the room erupted in noise. Jonathan’s voice rose over the babble. “Mom, you can’t!”

“I have to agree with your son, Joyce,” Dr. Owens said, “this is—”

“You listen to me, Sam,” Joyce interrupted. “I have had it with these things! I have had it with the Gate, with the demogorgons, and with Martin fucking Brenner! They have been tormenting my family for _four years._ You and your team are going to end this tonight and_ I am going to be there to make sure you do_.”

Owens sighed. “Joyce, it’s not safe—”

“When’s the last time I was safe, Sam?” She gestured angrily around the living room. “There’s still a hole in my wall where one of those things came through!”

“Joyce…”

“No, Sam! I’m going. If it’s safe enough for you,” she gestured at his stocky, well-fed figure, “then I’ll be just fine.”

“Ouch.”The room went quiet. Owens thought for a moment and then he shrugged. “Okay Joyce.That’s fine.Come along. Let’s be clear on something though - you stay with me.You’re not going anywhere near the caves. You and I are both going to stay well back from the front lines.”

Joyce considered for a moment and then nodded. “Fine.”

“Mom,” Jonathan began, but Joyce cut him off.

“Don’t start with me, Jonathan. After everything you’ve been up to the last few days, you and your brother and sister are lucky you aren’t grounded _forever_.”

Jonathan backed away and the room went quiet again. Remo and Aponte exchanged looks. They might be members of the special forces elite, but they clearly felt awkward standing in the middle of a family drama.

“Okay,” Dr. Owens said at last, “if that’s all settled…”

Mike got up from his chair and cleared his throat. “I’m going with you, too.”

* * *

The explosion of noise was even louder this time.

“What?” Joyce shouted.

“Mike, that’s crazy!” exclaimed Lucas.

“Kid…” said Dr. Owens.

“No, listen!” Mike insisted. “I’m going with you. I can help! As – as an advisor. I did all the research. I’m the one who found the Project site. I found the spear! I’ll bring it with me, just in case you need it.”

“Mike, look, I know you’re a brave guy—” Remo began.

“Lieutenant, please!” Mike said. “I can help you. You might need me! I’ll stay out of the way, I promise, but I know about these things and I can help you fight them. They’ve been trying to kill the people I love for years and there’s no way I’m going to sit on the sidelines—”

El’s scream was so loud it startled everyone in the room.

“Mike, stop it!”

He looked at her in shock.

Tears streamed down her face. “God, Mike, would you just stop!”

“El—” he gasped.

“You don’t need to do this!” she cried. “You don’t, Mike.”

“El,” he said again and his voice trailed away. He didn’t know what to say.

“You care about everyone, Mike,” El sobbed. She pointed around the table. “You care about Dustin. You care about Max. You care about me. Why don’t you care about yourself, Mike? Why don’t you ever care about yourself?”

He was quiet.

“These men are soldiers,” El said, sniffling. “They have guns! They don’t need your help, Mike. They don’t need you to play the Paladin!”

Mike jerked back like he’d been slapped. “I’m not playing the Paladin, El.”

The words sounded hollow even to his own ears.

“Mike,” El whimpered, wiping uselessly at her tears. “I know you want to find a way out.I know you want to find your blaze of glory. I know. And I know I can’t stop you.”

She took his hands in hers and stared at him with tear-filled eyes. “But please don’t look for it today, Mike. Okay? For me? Just for one day, let someone else find it.”

Mike struggled for words. “A way out? El, what are you...? That’s not...”

His voice died. He looked around the room. Everyone was quiet, heads down, not making eye contact. Mike cleared his throat and tried to smear a concealing smile across his face.It was his shield and he needed it now more than he ever had.

It was no use.One look at the anguish on El’s face and the smile died.Her words echoed in his head.

_I know you want to find a way out._

He felt his world crumbling around him and then there was a gentle hand on his shoulder.It was Lucas.Mike looked into the face of his oldest friend.There was nothing there but compassion and love.

They knew, Mike realized. They all knew.

He looked at El and her eyes were filled with so much love and so much pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks, a voiceless plea to let the black wings in his soul fly away.

He heard the sound of those awful wings fluttering._Damn the consequences._

He looked around the room.He looked at Lucas.Dustin.Will.Max.

El.

He saw it in their faces.He saw it in their eyes.They knew.They knew everything that was awful about him.They knew he hated himself.They knew why.

They loved him anyway.

The black wings fluttered.The darkness coiled.

Mike looked at his friends and there was nothing but love.

He turned back to El, his beautiful El, the girl who owned his soul from the moment they met.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. I’ll stay here.”

He raised a hand and cupped El’s cheek, and she leaned into it with a happy sob. Mike pulled her into a hug and she snuggled against him while he ran a soothing hand up and down her back.

He held her for a long time, whispering love into her ear while she cried. Lucas’ hand left his shoulder and everyone quietly stole away.There was nothing for Mike then but El, her warmth and her softness, and for one glorious moment in her arms, the black wings were quiet and the darkness let him be.


	24. The Node

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and welcome to another chapter of When He Was Special. This is the last one before the start of the big finale so the end is now in sight. I should mention there’s a little smut ahead - you’ve been warned...
> 
> On a different note, with this fic only about seven chapters from completion, I decided to start up a new one! It’s an AU and might not be for everyone, but obviously I welcome you to give it a try. Just click for my other works and check out “As Black As My Love’s Heart.”
> 
> As always, so much love to my readers and a special thank you to my wonderful commenters! I hope you enjoy the chapter.

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**July 4, 1986**

The Gate hummed its unearthly song and Martin Brenner closed his eyes. The music of the Gate was beautiful, the culmination of everything he had worked toward for so many years. He hadn’t known his destination in the early days, the days of MKUltra and the drugs and the experiments, but now it was clear. It had all been leading to this. All of his work with the children and the Void was for this. All of his work with Eleven.

He never could have done it without her.

In just a few short hours, the Entity would come through the Gate and reoccupy the body they’d built together. It would ground its consciousness in this world, tied to a hulking carcass of flesh. At the stroke of seven, Martin Brenner would trigger his device and the beast would be enslaved and the Entity would be _his_.

Then all its creatures would be his. Then there would be no limit.

The beast had been more difficult to control last night than either Brenner or the Entity had anticipated.The thing’s visceral reaction to the fireworks was unexpected, but in hindsight Brenner saw the logic of it.There must be a residual memory of the events at Starcourt, a post-traumatic stress forever embedded in the hindbrain.Once the Entity had sufficient control of the id and Brenner activated his device, the problem would be resolved.

The only concern, an irritating nuisance at the back of Brenner’s mind, was Grigori. The big Russian hadn’t been seen since last night and no one had any idea where he was.

It was perhaps for the best. Later that evening, Brenner would order the Entity and its Eaters to slaughter the Russians. Grigori was capable enough to be a dangerous variable when that happened. Better that he was absent. He could be hunted down later.

Brenner opened his eyes and picked up the control device, stroking it almost tenderly. The little silver box with its knobs and dials was the key that would unlock the future. All the readouts were green. He set the device back on the console, smiling. Brenner looked out across the cave, taking in the water and the gate machine and the red pulsing magnificence of the Gate itself. Then he paused.

The big Eater called Scar was looking at him.

The Eaters were so alien that Brenner found them very hard to read. Still, there was something about the way Scar looked at him that set a prickling at the nape of his neck. The thing’s gaze was... _malevolent_.

The creature turned away.

Suddenly unsettled, Brenner checked his watch. It was 5:00 pm. Only two hours to go. He nodded, trying to regain his usual icy calm. Two hours.

A man approached him, one of the comms techs. He was carrying a portable tape deck and a pair of headphones and he seemed quite agitated.

“Dr. Brenner,” the man said. “I think you’ll want to hear this.”

* * *

**Bath, Maine – The Byers House**

**July 4, 1986**

El couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

The sky had turned deep blue with a band of yellow at the horizon. The light bathed the backyard in rich golden tones. In an hour it would start to get dark, but for now everything was brilliant and the world was beautiful.

Mike was beautiful.

He sat on the grass next to her, his shoulder and hip warm where they pressed against hers. He was quiet, watching their friends laugh and shout as they played a game of Five Hundred.

They were all there, Steve and Jonathan and Lucas and Dustin and Max, running and cheering and sweating like regular teenagers who didn’t have to worry about saving the world.Only Will sat out, perched on a fallen log with his nose buried in one of the old colonial books.

Now and then El turned to look at Mike.God, he was so pretty. She could look forever at his wavy raven locks, his strong nose, his pointed chin. It was hard not to reach out and run her finger over his sharp cheekbones and then down to his full, plump lips. And those dark, sparkling eyes, her heart did a little stutter-step every time she saw them.

Mike would shift sometimes, wincing at the pain in his side where the demogorgon had sunk its claw. He’d been so brave, trying to hide the injury from Joyce. El knew he wanted to avoid prying questions about how he got hurt, fearing where that might lead. Now that Joyce knew the truth, they’d be able to take Mike to the doctor and get the wound attended. But even now he put on a brave face, waving off El’s concern with a casual wave of his hand.

Her beautiful boy.He was always hiding his pain behind the armor of his smile.But maybe, just maybe, that was coming to an end.

El had gotten through to Mike today, she was certain of it. She’d let him know that he didn’t have to suffer alone, that she was there for him and so were all of his friends. He knew now that he was loved, that the warmth and compassion and affection that poured from his heart was returned in full measure.

She’d spent the afternoon with Mike out here on the grass. They’d talked for hours about everything and nothing, absorbed in each other. Somehow they were always touching, hips and knees and shoulders and hands, as though seeking assurance that the other was really there. It was a comfort to feel Mike’s warmth against her skin or through the thin fabric of her clothes. She hoped her touch comforted him too, and she thought that it did.

They’d talked about the sailboat she wanted to build. She’d sketched it in the air for him, her arms waving, her face animated, and Mike never took his eyes off her. Sometimes he laughed and sometimes he smiled but mostly he listened intently. He asked questions and it made her heart swell with love because they were the _right_ questions.He understood her, understood her passion, and it brought her to the brink of happy tears knowing how much effort Mike put into being her partner. He read books and he studied so that he could share this with her. He didn’t dismiss her interests or treat them as “her thing”, something separate from their relationship. Mike loved her, and if she loved the sea, he would love it too.

They’d spent twenty minutes talking about the shape of the keel – _the keel,_ of all things – and Mike even made a suggestion that shifted her thinking. She wanted to kiss him then, over and over, overjoyed at the way this perfect boy embraced everything about her.

Mike had apologized, _again_, about getting seasick. He was ashamed, feeling like he’d let her down. She put a stop to that quickly, cutting off his rambling confession of guilt with a firm kiss on his soft lips. She kept at it until she was certain she’d set his head spinning, and then she broke away and whispered, “Mike, it’s okay.”

And it was.

They’d been quiet for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence and watching their friends play in the golden light. El realized suddenly that Mike was looking at her, a little smile on his face. She couldn’t help putting an arch in her back, pushing her chest forward, emphasizing the graceful line of her neck. God, she was _posing_ for him, hoping he liked what he saw.She felt so silly, but this amazing boy had her mind all awhirl and she didn’t think it would ever, ever stop.

Out of the corner of her eye, El saw Mike’s smile widen and she couldn’t help turning to face him. “What?” she asked, feeling suddenly full of butterflies.

“It’s nice being here with you,” he said and her heart skipped a beat. It was incredible - she’d first kissed this boy when she was twelve years old and she’d loved him ever since, but a simple sentence like that still made her giddy.

“It’s nice being here with you,” was all she could think to say.

Then Mike shrugged awkwardly. “It’s strange, you know? I’m not used to… not being there. I’m not used to letting someone else handle it.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. There was a pensive note in Mike’s voice that worried her.

“Dr. Owens and his team. They’re going to launch the raid in an hour… and I’m here. I don’t know. It’s strange. I’m so used to having the weight of the world on my shoulders. I’m so used to being there when everything is going down. Instead I’m here, sitting in the sun with you and watching my friends play.”

El stared at him, terrified of what he might say next.

Mike smiled. “And it’s nice,” he said. He took her hand. “It’s strange… but it’s nice. I like it.”

El only realized she’d been holding her breath when she let it out in a relieved sigh. She clasped his hand tightly. “I like it too, Mike. I’m glad you’re here.”

For a while they sat quietly in the sun, holding hands, listening to the shrieks and laughter of their friends. El’s eyes flicked over Mike, taking in his long, slender frame, his porcelain skin, his lean arms with their graceful hints of muscle. She loved the way his hand wrapped around hers, his fingers delicate but strong. He was absently stroking the back of her hand, just at the base of her thumb, and it felt so wonderfully sensuous that it made her shiver.

Mike was lost in thought. As she watched, he lightly wet his plump bottom lip with his tongue. It glistened in the golden light and El stared at it, fascinated. The sound of her friends playing in the yard faded and she became hypersensitive to the light caress of Mike’s fingers.

_You made him a promise last night,_ she reminded herself. _When you were in the catacombs._

_You don’t break a promise._

A little smile crept across her features. She looked away from Mike, then looked back. Her hair was short, but still long enough that she could give it a little flip. She did.

Mike noticed.

He blinked out of his reverie, his eyes widening ever so slightly as El put on her best coquettish smile. She’d been practicing it in the mirror ever since Mike told her he was coming to visit. She made sure to put just the right devilish twinkle in her eye.

Mike swallowed, hard.

El batted her eyelashes at him and had to fight back a giggle when a faint red flush burned across his cheeks. She raised her hand and Mike’s gaze followed it as she ran it through her hair and wound one honey-brown lock around her finger.

Mike cleared his throat.His breath came faster.

It was time for the finishing touch.El let her eyes roam very obviously up and down Mike’s slender frame and then she gently bit down on her full lower lip.

“Um, El?” Mike asked, his voice low and raspy.

“Yes, Mike?” she said, batting her eyelashes again.

“Do you… do you want to go inside?” His voice was tight, almost strangled.

“Maybe,” she shrugged, oh-so-innocent. “What do you want to do inside?” She kept winding her finger in her hair and she blessed him with a little teasing smile.

Mike huffed a little laugh, a rich red blush spreading over his face. He shook his head and then it was his turn to smile, those gorgeous lips spreading wide. When he spoke, he’d recovered his voice and it was low and smooth and it washed over her like a caress.

“We could… play D&D.”

El blinked in surprise.She couldn’t keep a flash of disappointment off her face. “D&D?” she squeaked.

Mike’s smile turned teasing and now El blushed. Oh that evil, evil boy.

“You don’t want to play D&D?” he asked in mock surprise. Then his voice dropped and it was thick and rich and pouring over her like honey. “Well, I suppose we could play… other games.”

He was still teasing her, but that look in his eyes wasn’t remotely a tease. There was a heat there and a passion that made her insides melt. She couldn’t stop a nervous, eager giggle.He cocked an eyebrow toward the house and she scrambled to her feet.

Mike got up more slowly, favoring his injured side. El quickly looked around the backyard. Their friends were still playing Five Hundred, Max throwing out the ball as the pack of boys raced after it. Will was engrossed in his book, his fingers tracing down each page as he read.

El took Mike’s hand and they walked toward the house. Their steps picked up as they went, going faster and faster until they were almost running. They burst through the back door, laughing, then stumbled past the dining table and into the living room. Mike caught El up in his arms and she squealed as her feet came right off the floor. _Goodness, when he did he get so tall?_ she thought, and then the question dissolved as Mike pressed his lips to hers.

He was strong despite his slender frame and El melted as he held her against him and plundered her lips. She looped her arms around Mike’s neck, kissing him back fervently and moaning as the familiar ache built inside her. She’d been so frightened of it before, when it was new and confusing and she couldn’t put a name to it, but now...

Now, Mike set her on fire and she welcomed the flames.

Eventually Mike’s injury began to tell and he had to set her back on the floor. They broke the kiss, panting, faces flushed.

“Mike,” El giggled, “that wasn’t D&D!”

“I thought you didn’t want to play D&D,” he teased.

She wound her finger in her hair again, enjoying the way his gaze was drawn to the motion. “You said we could play some other games…” she murmured, giving him her coquettish smile. “What did you have in mind?”

Mike gulped and El felt a shiver of pleasure go through her. It was clear from Mike’s blush and the look on his face that she made him feel giddy and filled with butterflies just like he did to her.

“Well, there is this other game…” Mike said.

“Oh?”She couldn’t stop smiling, loving this little dance they were doing.

“Yes,” Mike said. “First, you sit on the couch and then you face each other.”

El sat down eagerly, a little breathless. Mike joined her on the couch, catching her hands in his own. God, she could get lost forever in his eyes, his beautiful smile…

“Now,” Mike said, “the goal of the game is to _not_ kiss the other person. Whoever can do that the longest wins.”

“What?” El said, bewildered. Then she pouted. “Mike, this game doesn’t sound very fun.”

He leaned in and before she knew what was happening, he kissed her. She blinked in surprise and then Mike’s little breath of laughter tickled her lips.

“Look at that,” he murmured. “I lose.”

El giggled, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer to her. Her other hand tangled in his glorious black hair. She slanted her mouth across his, fitting oh so perfectly. Mike moaned as she slid her tongue into his mouth and the sound sent a thrill coursing down her spine.

She lost herself in him. There was nothing but her beautiful boy, his lips, his tongue, his thick hair wrapped in her fingers and the warmth of his body under her hand. She could feel his long fingers caressing her neck and the soft skin at her waist and it set her entire body tingling.

The kiss grew more heated.Mike’s hands moved up her sides until they were on her tied-up shirt and then he was lightly stroking the soft mounds of her breasts. El couldn’t hold back a whimper. She was melting, the liquid heat pooling inside her.It felt delicious and lovely and she ached for more.

Mike broke the kiss and leaned back, his eyes dark with desire. “Oh god, El, please take your shirt off,” he said.

“Mike!” she gasped, surprised by his forwardness but at the same time thrilled.The Mike she knew was always so restrained, always trying to be a gentleman, but this Mike... hungered.

“I have to see you,” he said, his face strained with passion and _need_. “Please, El.Please, please, please.”

“Mike!” she gasped again, trying to act shocked but loving his eagerness.

“Your boobs are just so pretty,” he groaned. “I can’t take it. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Her heart flip-flopped. Inside her mind, a tiny El jumped up and down and did cartwheels around her head. _He thinks they’re pretty he thinks they’re pretty he thinks they’re pretty._

“Mike!” she giggled, trying to keep up a veneer of protest even though her heart absolutely wasn’t in it. “Our friends might see!” She craned her neck, looking back through the dining room windows at the backyard. She couldn’t see anyone but she could hear the faint sound of their shouts and laughter.

“They won’t,” he assured her, “don’t worry, they’re busy.” God, seeing Mike so excited, almost desperate – it was just exhilarating.

She looked around one more time, as if fearing the Party would jump out of a corner at any moment. “Okay,” she said, feeling delightfully wicked.“Okay, I’ll open it, but I won’t take it off.”

Mike nodded desperately.El unknotted her white linen shirt, then undid the buttons until it hung open and Mike could see her pretty white bra. He sucked in a breath.

“Oh god,” he groaned.“El, you’re so amazing.” His hand closed on her breast and El couldn’t help arching her back, pushing into his palm. Her head spun and before she realized it, Mike’sfingers slid inside the cup and he popped her boob out.

“Mike!” she gasped and then she groaned as his mouth latched onto her hard nipple. He sucked and a jolt shot straight to her core. El fisted her hands in Mike’s hair and bit her lip to keep from crying out. She’d been aroused before by their flirting and kissing, but good lord was she wet for him now.

As Mike worshipped her breast with his lips and tongue, he worked her bra straps off her shoulders and freed her other breast from its cup.He stroked it and kneaded it, teasing the nipple with his fingers.El realized she had a death grip on his hair and she was digging her nails into his scalp, but Mike didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the feeling of Mike’s mouth and hands on her. He was eager, possessive, _hungry_, and it set her mind on fire.

Mike’s mouth left her breast and he kissed her hard, his lips almost bruising. She ached for it, wanting him to leave the marks of his passion on her.She wanted swollen lips and fingernail marks and love bites on her skin. For one moment a thought drifted through her mind – _your friends are playing in the yard just outside_ – and then it was gone and there was nothing but Mike and the desperate need building inside her.

El shifted on the couch, rising to her knees as Mike kissed her and fondled her breasts. She swung her leg over him, sitting on his lap, and goodness he was so hard. He pressed into her right _there_ and it was lovely and wicked and so very right.

She rocked her hips against him and they both groaned. Mike’s mouth found her breasts again and his hands were on her ass, his fingers digging into her cheeks and pulling her against his erection. He gently bit down on her nipple and she squealed and bucked her hips.

This is what she wanted, what she’d been aching for since last night. She wanted to ride Mike, ride him until they were panting and exhausted, until they were both just a sloppy, sticky mess. She wanted to feel the explosion of pleasure rip through her and know that it ripped through him too.

“Goddamn,” Mike moaned, “El, that’s so good. You are so amazing.”

“Oh God, Mike,” she whimpered, bucking against him. She could feel his hard length and it was wonderful, but her position on the couch was awkward. Her knees kept slipping as she tried to hump her hips and she couldn’t quite get the pressure she needed.

“Mike,” she whined, pulling his head from her breasts and kissing him. She shoved her tongue into his mouth, and she was so anxious and aching and frustrated that maybe it was a little too rough.

Mike didn’t mind. If anything it heightened his lust. He moaned around her tongue and squeezed her ass so hard she thought he might leave a bruise. Her mind tangled up in the delicious thought of looking at that bruise tomorrow, knowing Mike made it, knowing he’d marked her as his.

She pushed away from him then, panting. “Mike, let’s get on the floor.”

“Right,” he gasped. “Right, on the floor.”

He scrambled off the couch and onto the carpet, lying on his back. In a moment, El was on him and it was _so_ much better. God, the pressure was _perfect_ and she ground herself into his erection and that was what she’d been missing. Her hands were on either side of his head, her breasts hanging over his face, and when Mike craned his neck and sucked her nipple into his mouth she almost screamed.

For a moment she could only stay there, her fingers digging into the carpet, feeling that simultaneous surge of tension and pleasure roar through her. Then she sat up, her breast popping from Mike’s mouth, and she started rocking her hips over his hardness again and again. She rode him, loving the way his eyes met hers, the way he saw only her, wanted only her. He clutched her breast with one hand, the other on her ass, and he urged her on.

It was even better than last night. She wished they could do this all day long, over and over.

Mike’s eyes roved over her body, from her face to her breasts to her rolling hips. He arched his back and pushed his erection into her and she groaned. Mike’s eyes flickered away from her and then came back to her face.

“Oh god, Mike,” she whimpered.

His eyes flickered away again, a faint trace of confusion creeping across his features.

“Mike?” El breathed.

He stopped moving, even though her hips kept grinding on him.

It was like he was trying to see something across the room, but the only thing there was a little side table. Suddenly he stiffened.

“Mike?” El asked, pausing the roll of her hips.

“Oh shit,” he said.

“What is it?” she gasped. “Is something wrong?”

Mike didn’t say anything, just kept looking over at the side table.

“Did you come, Mike? That’s okay.” She remembered he had been concerned last night about coming before she did. The idea really seemed to bother him. El thought he was being silly. She didn’t mind if he came, even if she wasn’t quite there. It was actually kind of flattering if Mike was so filled with need for her that he couldn’t hold back.

El would still come, after Mike was ready to go again or maybe… god, maybe Mike could put his hand _down there_, rub her where it felt so good.

Her heart pounded and her breath caught as an image flashed through her mind – Mike putting his hand there _inside_ her pants, his long, slender fingers stroking her where she was so wet and slippery…

“No,” Mike groaned, bringing El back to her senses. “I didn’t come. I wish that was it.” He pointed at the side table. She dipped her head and craned her neck, trying to follow the line of his finger.

“Underneath,” Mike whispered to her.

El looked at the underside of the table and then frowned in confusion. There was a little black disc there, maybe an inch long, with a few small wires coming out of it.

“Mike, what is that?”

He put a finger to his lips. “I’m not sure,” he whispered. “But I’ve got a really bad feeling.”

Mike patted El’s hip and she took that as a signal to get off him. She stood and he clambered to his feet. El was buzzing, her panties completely soaked and her body knotted with unrelieved tension, but the worry on Mike’s face was swiftly dampening the heat inside her.

Mike pulled the disk from underneath the table and examined it. Holding a finger to his lips again, he wrapped his fist tightly around the device and held it low at his side.

“I was afraid of that,” he whispered. “It’s a bug.”

“No, it’s not,” El said, confused. It clearly wasn’t a bug. It wasn’t even alive.

Now she was a little worried. Mike was so smart, it wasn’t like him to make that kind of mistake. Maybe he was still too aroused to think clearly. She knew she certainly got fuzzy-headed when she was all worked up and horny.She would bet it was the same for boys.

“No, El,” Mike said gently. “I don’t mean a bug like an insect, I mean like a listening device. It lets someone hear what’s going on in a room without the people in the room knowing. Spies and secret agents use it.”

“Oh,” El said. She frowned. “Why do they call it a bug?”

“I don’t know,” Mike admitted. “I guess it kind of looks like one?”

She nodded. That made sense. The disk did look a bit like an insect, especially with the wires sticking out of it like little legs. “What do you think it means, Mike?”

He swallowed hard. “I think it means the Russians know everything.”

* * *

Mike clenched the bug in his fist, thinking furiously.

Luckily his mind was clear and sharp. Finding out that Russians were eavesdropping on you was one surefire way to kill a boner, and all the blood was back in his brain where he needed it. He swiftly analyzed the possibilities but they all pointed to the same awful conclusion.

“Think about it, El,” Mike said. “It all fits. How did Grigori know we were at Whateley House last night? We snuck out there without telling anyone. We didn’t see anyone following us. But he found us anyway, and one of the only ways he could have _is if he heard us planning_ _it_. I’m guessing he planted this bug the night he drugged you, and the Russians have been listening to us ever since.”

“Oh no,” El gasped. “Mike, that would mean they know—”

“About the raid,” he said grimly.

He shook his head. Everything had been going so well – too well. Mike had always known the other shoe was going to drop eventually and wow, it had dropped hard.

He heard the sound of the back door opening. Will raced into the living room, waving the old colonial book and shouting, “Mike! Mike! We’ve got trouble!”

Then the small boy skidded to a halt, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping.

Mike and El stared at him, surprised, and then El yelped as she realized her shirt was still open and her boobs were on display. She and Will both turned away, blushing furiously. El quickly fixed her bra while Will stared at the wall, his face burning.

“Will,” Mike gasped, looking back and forth between his girlfriend and her brother. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

El gave Mike an incredulous look as she buttoned up her shirt. He mentally face-palmed as he realized how stupid he must sound. “Um, okay,” he admitted, “it _is_ what it looks like. But seriously, Will, we have a huge problem!”

Will blushed even harder. “I’m sure it’s huge, Mike,” he said, still staring at the wall, “but I think that’s something you and El will just have to deal with.”

“What?” said Mike. “No!” Then he paused, glancing at El. “I mean, yes. But no! That’s not what I’m talking about. Will, you have to come look at this.”

Will refused to turn away from the wall. “Mike, seriously – none of my business.”

“Would you get over here!” Mike hissed. “Look!” He held up the bug.

Will finally looked over. He stared for a moment at Mike’s hand and then he gasped. “Oh shit. Is that…?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Mike.

Will looked at Mike in alarm. “My mom!”

“We have to get up there,” Mike said. “Warn them. Get them to call off the raid.”

“We do!” Will said. Then he held up the old leather-bound book. “But Mike, I’m afraid it gets worse.”

* * *

Mike wrapped the bug in a towel and dropped it in the laundry hamper, then joined El and Will at the dining table. Will had the book open to an engraving of a cave interior. There appeared to be a deep hole in the middle of the cave with a waist-high stone wall built around it.

“So this morning,” Will began, “before Dart went back to the woods, he told me he sensed something he called a ‘Node.’ He said we’d have to plan for it the next time we faced the Kraken.”

“What’s a Node?” El asked.

“Exactly my question. I started going back through these old books to see what I could find. It wasn’t good news.”

Mike rubbed at his forehead, hoping to stop the stress building at his temples. It didn’t help. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Will.”

“According to this book,” Will said, “the colonists closed the Gate back in colonial times but because of the Node _that didn’t kill the Kraken.”_

Mike looked at him in shock.“What?”

“Closing the Gate cut off the link between the Mind Flayer and the creature,” Will said, “but the creature still lived. The thing went on a rampage, killing dozens of people, before the colonists finally killed it for good with the Spear of Destiny.”

“I don’t understand,” El said. “When you close the Gate…”

“...you kill the body,” Will agreed. “That’s how it was at Starcourt. But it didn’t work here in Maine because the Node kept the thing alive.”

“So what is a Node?” Mike asked. “Does the book say?”

“Yes. After the colonists finally killed the Kraken, they searched the sea caves where the Gate was. They found what seemed like a bottomless hole in one of the caves – they called it the Void Well.”

“I’m assuming it’s that thing in the drawing,” Mike said.

“That’s right,” Will told him. “No matter how many sounding lines the colonists dropped in the Well, they never reached the bottom. But they were able to figure out that there was something down there – the Node – and it had a connection to the Upside Down.”

“A connection?” El asked. “Like a Gate?”

“Not quite like a Gate,” Will said. “Things can’t pass through it. But it does provide some kind of conduit to the power of the Upside Down. Apparently enough of a conduit to keep the Kraken alive.”

Mike exchanged horrified looks with El. Will was right. Things had just gotten worse.

“Dr. Owens and his team,” Mike breathed. “They’re about to walk into a trap. And even if they manage to fight their way out and close the Gate…”

“The Kraken will kill them,” Will finished. “Without the spear, they won’t have a chance.”

For a moment Mike was quiet, thinking. He felt a stirring inside him.

The Paladin.

He knew he shouldn’t go chasing a blaze of glory. He knew he shouldn’t risk his life needlessly.

But sometimes it wasn’t needless.

Sometimes a man had to stand up and be counted.

“We’ve got to get up there,” Mike said. “We’ve got to warn them.” He looked at Will and El. “Get the Party. Tell them it’s time to get off the bench.”

* * *

The Party all gathered in the living room and listened as Mike and Will broke it down for them. When the two boys finished talking, there was silence.

“Well, shit,” Steve said at last.

“No kidding,” Max sighed.

“Next Fourth of July, I’m going to Utah,” Dustin muttered.

“We don’t have much time,” Mike told them, looking at his watch. “It’s 6:25. Steve, how long to drive to the Project?”

“About twenty minutes, I think,” the older boy said.

“Okay.” Mike looked around at the Party. “Get your gear. We don’t know what might happen, so bring anything that might be useful. Bats, flashlights, the Supercoms—”

“The Smith & Wesson,” Dustin said eagerly.

“Um, yeah…” Lucas said, “but maybe give that to Will.”

Dustin scowled but then reluctantly nodded.

“Get whatever you need,” Mike said, “and meet at the car in five minutes.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Max snapped. “What, we’re just going to drive up to the Project and knock on the door?”

“No,” Mike said, “we just need to get close enough so we can contact Owens’ team on the Supercoms and warn them they’re about to walk into an ambush. Once they call off the raid we can regroup and figure out what to do next.And we’ll bring the spear to make sure we can take down the Kraken.”

He thought some more. “We should use the access road that leads to the lighthouse. There wasn’t any traffic on that road in the photos. It will leave us about a mile away from the Project, but that should be close enough to contact Remo’s team.”

There were nods from the Party then. They had a plan.

Mike’s plan.

“All right people,” he told them, “let’s move like we’ve got a purpose.”

It was the same line that Remo had used earlier that afternoon. Saying it made Mike feel absolutely badass.

Max rolled her eyes. Lucas and Steve snorted. But everyone got moving.

As El headed to her bedroom to grab her backpack, she paused at Mike’s side. She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

“Everything okay, El?” he asked.

She smiled shyly. Mike was surprised – El seemed genuinely bashful. It was almost as if the way he’d taken charge had left her flustered. “I love you, Mike,” she said at last. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the cheek.

Soon they were all gathered at the El Camino. Mike scanned the gear as the Party piled into the car. There were the usual backpacks full of supplies – ropes, matches, binoculars and such – plus Dustin’s tool bag and Lucas’ heavy pipe. Will had the Smith & Wesson and Max had…

“Holy shit,” Mike said.“You kept the shotgun?”

Max rolled her eyes. “What was I supposed to do, Wheeler? Run over to Whateley House and put it back?”

That was hard to argue with.

“You brought your skateboard too?” Lucas asked her, tapping the board where she’d pushed it through the straps of her backpack.

She shrugged. “Mike said bring anything that might be useful.”

“Well, don’t forget this,” Steve said, tossing the Spear of Destiny to Mike. The older boy put his spiked bat in the bed of the El Camino and added a small satchel.

“What’s that?” asked Dustin.

“Shakespeare,” Steve said.

“What? Why are you bringing that?”

“Trust me, Henderson. You never know when Shakespeare’s going to come in handy.” Steve slid into the driver’s seat. Dustin sighed and shook his head.

Steve cranked the ignition and the El Camino’s big engine roared. Suddenly Dustin pointed. “Wait a minute!”

Loping toward them from the woods was Dart. The big demodog came to the rear of the car and barked up at Dustin. It was practically wagging its stubby tail.

“Did he say something?” Dustin asked Will.

“Yes.He said he knows it’s time to… um… to kill God,” the frail boy told him.

“What?”

“He means the Mind Flayer.”

“Now wait a minute,” Max began, “You’re not seriously thinking…”

“Come on, Max,” Lucas said. “We can use all the help we can get.”

Dustin made a beckoning gesture and Dart leapt into the back of the car, his great weight making the vehicle rock on its axles. The demodog barked eagerly at Dustin and then sat. Dustin patted him gently.

“See,” Dustin said, smiling at Max, “it’s like we have our own Scooby-Doo!”

Max groaned.“More like Scooby-Doo meets the Call of Cthulhu.”

They all settled into position.Steve slammed the car in reverse, got them pointed down the driveway, then popped the clutch into second gear. The El Camino hurtled away in a shower of gravel and squealed through a sharp turn onto Route 1.

Mike checked his watch. It was half six. They should get to the Project with ten minutes to spare.

El sat beside him, her warmth pressed against him. Mike drew on that warmth for comfort, trying to ease the tightness in his throat as he watched the trees flash by. Up in the cab, Steve flung the car into the winding turns, cursing every time he had to brake, doing his damnedest to set loose the monster engine and let it run free.

El snuggled into Mike. He started to check his watch again even though only a couple of minutes could have passed. El laid a gentle hand on his forearm and he stopped. She kissed his cheek. Then she raised her lips to his ear and murmured, “Don’t worry, Mike. We’ll get there in time. We’ll find a way.”

He hugged her tightly then and stroked her hair, soothing himself with the feel of the silken strands under his fingers. The setting sun lit the sky orange and the wind of the drive whipped in Mike’s hair and the girl next to him was warm and lovely.

She was right. They’d find a way. As long as El was beside him, there would always be a way.


	25. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I’m very sorry that it’s taken me so long to update. I’m afraid work has been very busy recently and probably will be for a while. It’s actually been quite stressful, but writing these chapters helps me decompress... so here you go.
> 
> I apologize to some of my commenters who I haven’t been able to respond to recently. You know I love exchanging thoughts with you and I will do so again as soon as I can come up for air! As always, you make this so worthwhile and sharing ideas with you truly is a gift.

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**July 4, 1986**

The forests of southern Maine stretch to the coastline. In summer, the elms and maples are thick with leaves. Swallows and warblers sing in the trees.

Joyce couldn’t see the cliffs of Shingleford Strand through the dense woods, but she could hear the waves roll against the shore.

She couldn’t stop pacing, the thick carpet of leaves crunching under her feet.

“Joyce, if you get any more nervous, you’re going to start making _me_ nervous,” Dr. Owens said.“Relax. Remo and his guys know what they’re doing.”

“I can’t stand this _waiting_, Sam,” she told him. “We’re just sitting here, and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know what anyone’s doing, and I don’t know if something’s gone wrong. I just want all of this _over_ and I have no idea—”

He held up a calming hand. “Joyce, it’s T minus twelve minutes. _Nothing’s_ going on yet. Take a deep breath, _stop pacing,_ and relax. Look at Corporal Sully and the rest of the squad. They’re the ones who have to assault the docks and you don’t see them freaking out, right?” He smiled. “Trust me. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Joyce took a deep breath and nodded. Sam was right. Everything would be fine. Remo’s team were highly-trained soldiers ready to do their jobs. Those jobs might include assaulting a cave complex packed with Russians and demogorgons, but that didn’t seem to faze them.

Four soldiers waited with her at the muster point. Corporal Sully was the leader – short, fast and radiating an air of lethal competence. Hondo was the big guy, tall and hulking with tree trunk arms. Larkins and Wyatt were so uniformly average – average height, average weight, average build – that Joyce had to check the names on their flak vests to tell them apart. It didn’t help that most of the time the squad wore tactical helmets with visors that hid their faces.

“They wear the helmets because they’re in a rapid assault role,” Sam had explained, as if that should mean something to her. At the blank look on Joyce’s face, he’d continued. “Once the shooting starts in the caves, they’ll ride those four-wheel ATVs through the woods and charge the guard post at the top of the cliff. Then they’ll take the road down the cliff to assault the docks. It’s dangerous stuff. We up-armored the front of the ATVs and the wind screen is bullet-proof, but the helmet gives some more protection. It really helps in case you take a tree branch to the face at thirty miles an hour.”

Now that made sense to her. Earlier, Joyce had been seated behind Hondo on an ATV as the squad roared through the woods toward the muster point. She’d clutched the man’s thick, rock-hard waist in a death grip and bit her cheek to keep from screaming. Every jolt and jump shuddered in her bones and she was certain they were going to run into a tree. When they finally stopped, it had taken an act of will to unknot her fingers and release her grip. Hondo had lifted his visor and given her a wink that was somewhere between cocky and sympathetic.

Now the four soldiers waited, leaning against their ATVs as the minutes ticked by.

“Can’t you radio Remo?” Joyce asked. “Get some kind of status check or something?”

“Afraid not,” Owens said. “The Russians are jamming the comms. There’s no way to get through.”

“What do you mean, jamming the comms?” Joyce gasped. “Doesn’t – doesn’t that mean they know we’re here?”

“No, it’s standard procedure for the Russians. They always block comms around their installations, so no surprise they’re doing it here. That’s why we prearranged the times and signals for the assault. We’ve got flares and smoke if we need to change things up on the fly.”

Joyce bit her lip. She didn’t find Sam’s words very comforting. He made it all sound routine but she couldn’t believe it would be that easy. It was never that easy.

“Remind me again how six of us are supposed to capture the docks?” she said.

“Four of us,” Sam clarified. “You and I are staying here Joyce, no ifs, ands or buts. I don’t want you anywhere near this mess. I don’t want to be anywhere near it either.”

“Okay, fine, four of us.Look, Sully and the team seem really capable and I know you say they’re the best, but there’s so few of them…”

“They _are_ the best,” Sam assured her. “And they’ll have the ATVs, the advantage of surprise, and…” he pointed, “the mini-guns.”

Mounted on each ATV was a six-barreled machine gun hooked up to a large pack of ammunition. Even at rest the things looked deadly.

“_Mini_-guns?” Joyce said.

He laughed. “I guess the name does sound kind of strange. It’s _mini_ compared to other rotary machine guns.Like the Vulcans we put on the helicopter gunships.”

Joyce gave him a baffled stare and he shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s just say that you don’t want to be wherever that thing is pointing.If you are, it’s adios, muchachos.”

“Adios, muchachos,” Joyce repeated weakly.

“Right. They’re also man-portable, so once the team captures the docks, they can dismount the guns and take them into the caves.Uh… did you ever see that movie _Predator_? Jesse Ventura used a mini-gun in that movie.”

“Jesse Ventura?”

“You know, the professional wrestler? Jesse ‘the Body’ Ventura?” Sam grinned. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, my faction is testing Jesse’s interest in running for office. He’s aligned with our views and we think he’d make a hell of a politician. He could run for governor or something.”

“Governor? A professional wrestler?” Joyce snorted. “If you want to talk crazy, Sam, why don’t you have _Arnold_ run for governor?”

Sam laughed. “Arnold _Schwarzenegger_?”

“Yeah.” Joyce smiled, enjoying the banter. It took her mind off everything that was about to happen.

“Well, that’s just silly—” Sam started but then he paused, thinking.He nodded slowly. “You know Joyce, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Oh god, Sam, if you think _that’s_ a good idea, I’m really starting to question your judgement.”

They chuckled and Joyce was surprised by the sudden fondness she felt for this man.Despite his mysterious job, his plots within plots and his hard-to-fathom loyalties, Sam Owens had always looked out for her family. He might be a secretive government agent, but he was actually kind of sweet.

Owens checked his watch. “Time’s getting short. It won’t be long now.”

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – Somewhere On Route 1**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Max’s fiery hair whipped in the wind as the El Camino hurtled down the coast road. Thick woods flashed by on either side. Now and then a gap in the trees showed the high, rocky cliffs of the shore.

She sighed. She couldn’t believe she was on another quest to save the world. All she’d wanted to do this summer was play in the sun, romp in the waves, and spend some time with her friend Eleven. Instead she was fighting demogorgons, breaking into spooky old houses in the middle of the night, and now… charging headlong into danger to close a Gate and kill a Kraken.

And as always, it was because of Mike fucking Wheeler.

The scrawny boy always screwed things up. He was constantly stumbling across secret projects and magic spears and other things that turned the holidays into epic confrontations with the supernatural. Good lord, the guy couldn’t even dry hump his girlfriend without finding a Russian listening device.

And who suffered from it? Max. Despite her best attempts at a normal life, she kept getting caught in Wheeler’s endless bad luck.

Steve yanked the vehicle through a hairpin turn and Dart’s big, scaly form pressed against her. It was like cuddling with a slimy, four hundred pound St. Bernard. She pushed the demodog away and shot a glare at Dustin. The curly-haired boy shrugged apologetically. Dart twisted to regard her with his faceless flower-petal head. She could have sworn he looked apologetic too, in his own alien way.

Mike and Lucas worked the Supercoms, trying channel after channel. On the other side of the El Camino, Will was reading the old colonial books and flipping pages furiously.

The main road to the Project came up on the right. Two heavily muscled men in black jeans and t-shirts lounged beside a gate barring the entrance. Max tensed but Steve never slowed, continuing down Route 1 like they were ordinary teens looking for fun on a Friday night.

“Did you see those rifles stashed behind the gate?” Dustin hissed. “I think they were AK-47s!”

“AKs,” Lucas muttered. “Definitely Russian.”

Max rolled her eyes. Ever since they met Lieutenant Remo, every boy in the Party had started talking like extras from a bad war movie.

After another mile, they reached the dirt access road leading to the lighthouse. It was also blocked by a gate but this one was unguarded. Lucas made short work of the lock with a pair of bolt cutters. They wound their way through the woods toward the shore, dust spilling behind them as the car’s big tires chewed up the road.

Mike slapped his Supercom in frustration. “We’re not getting through!”

“Maybe it’s broken?” Max asked.“That’s what happens when you bang it around.”

“It’s not broken,” Lucas told her. “We’re not getting through on any of them.”

“They must be jamming us,” Dustin said.

Max’s eyebrows shot up. “Jamming us?Can they do that?”

“Yeah,” Mike sighed, his shoulders slumping. “They must have a scrambler that blocks transmissions.”

Max considered that. “Well… but, that’s okay, right? The fact that they’re scrambling us means they know we’re coming. Remo’s team will be tipped off.”

Lucas shook his head. “It’s standard Russian protocol to run scramblers. Remo won’t think it’s anything out of the ordinary.”

“And how in the world do you know that?” Max asked, her voice thick with irritation.

The boys looked at her in surprise.

“_Soldier of Fortune_ magazine,” Mike said.

“It’s the bible of the mercenary trade,” said Lucas.

“No soldier or black ops specialist does without it,” Dustin added. “Available for $2.99 every month at your local newsstand.”

Max shot an unbelieving look at Eleven that screamed, _Help me._

El shrugged. Her expression said, _Boys. What are you going to do?_

“What is it?” Lucas asked, picking up on the exchange.

Max sighed. “There are no words.”

Max was a tomboy. She liked skateboarding and video games and comic books. She read magazines like _BMX_, _Black Belt,_ and _Wizard_. But she drew the line at _Soldier of Fortune_. She figured somewhere out there was a boy who didn’t have an obsession with war stories and the French Foreign Legion. If she ever met that boy, she’d marry him.

“Mike, if we can’t reach Mr. Remo, what are we going to do?” asked El.

“We’ll have to figure something else out. There must be a way to signal them.” Mike gnawed his lip anxiously. “Lucas, did you bring any fireworks?”

“Right, Mike,” Lucas said.“Remo’s going to think there’s something unusual about fireworks on the _Fourth of July._”

“Oh man, this is not good,” Dustin groaned.

Will raised his head from his book. “Um, Mike, I think there’s another problem—”

“Not now, Will,” Mike said, not really listening. “We’re almost at the lighthouse. Tell Steve to stop.”

El knocked on the back window of the cab. Steve pulled the El Camino past the lighthouse and parked next to a long maintenance shed. The Party gathered behind the shed, peering about nervously for Russians. The place was quiet.No one was around.

The lighthouse perched on the steep cliffs of the shoreline. Waves crashed fifty feet below on a narrow strip of sand and rock. The cliffs stretched away in either direction as far as the eye could see.

Further back from the cliffs were the thick green woods of Maine. A strip of rocky ground about a hundred yards wide stretched like a pavement between the trees and the shore.

A mile west was the Project.The Party could just make out the docks and the sea caves sheltered under steep granite cliffs.

“So what’s going on, Wheeler?” Steve asked. “Did you warn Remo?”

“We can’t,” Mike said, scrubbing a hand through his shaggy black hair. “We’re being jammed.”

“Figures,” Steve groaned. “Standard Russian protocol.”

Max stared at the older boy, flabbergasted.

“What?” he said. “It was in last month’s _Soldier of Fortune_.”

“Um, Mike…” Will began.

“Not now, Will.”

Jonathan paced back and forth, thinking. “Why don’t we just drive up to the Project? Remo will see us in the car and know something is wrong. I mean, it’s an El Camino, it could only be us.”

“Unless the Mexicans are invading,” Max muttered.

“Remember that guard post at the top of the cliffs?” Dustin said.“They’d gun us down before we got within a hundred yards.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Jonathan demanded. “They’re walking into a trap!”

“Listen everyone!” Mike said. The Party quieted. “We need to go to the top of the lighthouse. We’ll get the lay of the land and figure out what’s going on. Then we can decide what to do next.”

“Mike…” Will tried again.

“In a minute, Will!” Mike snapped.

The Party hurried from the shed to the lighthouse. Steve tried the door at the base of the great tower. It was locked.

“Stand back,” he said. “I’ll knock the thing down.” The door was metal and it looked very sturdy. Steve took a running start and slammed into it, then spun away clutching his shoulder. “Ow.”

“Ease down, Rambo,” Max said. She dug into her backpack and pulled out her picks and wires. “Give me a second.”

The Party watched, open-mouthed, as she swiftly worked her tools in the lock. In moments there was a click and she pushed the door open.There was stunned silence as she calmly put the picks away.

“That was awesome!” Dustin finally gasped. “You’re not a zoomer – you’re a thief! How in the world did you do that?”

Max shrugged. “I ran away from home a few times. You pick up some skills.”

“Did you know about this?” Dustin asked Lucas.

The dark-skinned boy gave him an awkward smile. “She _is_ my girlfriend, dude.”

The big room beyond the door was empty except for stairs leading to a hatch in the ceiling. The Party followed them up.They didn’t see anyone as they climbed, passing floor after floor filled with boxes and old furniture. Soon they were at the top of the lighthouse in what seemed to be a control room. Windows lined every wall and the great lantern spun overhead, warning ships away from the dangerous rocks of the coast.

They gathered at the windows and looked west toward the Project. Lucas pulled pairs of binoculars from his backpack and passed them around.

“Okay, there’s the harbor,” Mike said. “I can also see the breakwater and the docks.”

“Fifty foot cliffs all around,” Dustin muttered.

“There’s the guard post on the cliff top,” Jonathan said, “right by the main road. I think… yes, there’s two Russians there.”

“Isn’t there supposed to be a second guard post?” asked Max.

“It’s at the base of the cliff by the docks.You can just see it from this angle.Looks like... one guard.”

“I can make out the sea caves,” Mike said. “See?There’s the three main ones. Then the small one at the water’s edge is the maintenance tunnel. And further left, there’s a big one that opens right onto the water…” His voice trailed off.

There was a dim red glow pulsing inside the big cave, casting an eerie light across the waves.

“That’s a Gate,” El breathed.

“Shit,” said Dustin.“We knew it had to be there but... shit.”

The water around the cave churned and bubbled.

“Do you think that’s the Kraken?” Lucas asked.“Causing all that turbulence?”

“It must be,” Mike said.He checked his watch and banged the window in frustration. “We’re running out of time. They’re going to launch the raid in just minutes.”

“Dustin was right, though,” Steve said.“We can’t just drive to the harbor from here. That guard post at the end would cut us to pieces.”

“How about we sneak through the forest?” Lucas asked. “We can’t take the car, but at least the guards won’t see us.”

Max shook her head. “On foot, in the woods… it will take a long time.”

“It might be our only choice,” Mike sighed. “We have to get over there. Even if we’re not in time to warn Remo’s team, we have to get the spear to them.”

“Mike!” Will shouted. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! The spear is no good!”

The Party stared at the small boy in shock. Will’s face was red and his breathing heavy – he was clearly furious at being brushed off again and again.

“What do you mean, the spear is no good?” Mike stammered.

Will opened the book he carried, setting it on a nearby desk. He flipped pages until he reached a color engraving. “Here. Look.”

The picture showed the Freemasons facing down the Kraken with a giant crossbow, twice the size of a man. The Spear of Destiny was loaded into the crossbow like an enormous arrow.

“What’s this?” Mike asked.

“A ballista.”

“I know what a ballista is!” Mike snapped.

“I don’t,” Steve and El said in unison.

“It’s an old form of siege weapon,” Will explained. “Ancient artillery. It fires enormous arrows to take out walls, ships, big targets like that. It’s really big and really powerful and it takes three men to load it.”

“But what does this engraving mean?” Mike asked.The tone of his voice said he already knew the answer, but he was hoping against hope he was wrong.

Will sighed.“Mike, I kept reading the book while we were in the car, trying to figure out how the Freemasons finally beat the Kraken. Remember, closing the Gate didn’t kill it because of the Node.”

“Right.”

“The thing is, they couldn’t beat it.Not hand to hand. They tried to fight the Kraken using the spear as... well, a spear.Like Steve did at Whateley House. They were never able to pierce its hide. Humans aren’t strong enough.”

“Oh shit,” Lucas muttered.

Will kept going. “The creature slaughtered them by the dozens. So instead they built a ballista and converted the spear into what was basically a giant arrow. The next time the Kraken attacked, they shot it with the ballista.The spear pierced the hide and the Kraken disintegrated. That’s how they killed it.”

“That explains the black iron base on the spear,” Mike murmured. “The one with the notch in it that wasn’t part of the original weapon. It’s how they turned the spear into an arrow!”

“Exactly.”

“Oh man,” Dustin groaned.

“What?” Max said. “So what?”

Will ran his finger over the engraving and then shut the book. “Max, it means that even if we get the spear to Remo, it won’t do any good. We need superhuman strength or something like a ballista to pierce the Kraken’s hide. Without that... the spear is useless.”

“Maybe there’s a spare ballista lying around?” Steve asked hopefully.

Will’s silence was answer enough.

Max felt her heart sink. Then, just for a second, her eyes flicked to El.

_If El had her powers, she could do it. She could ram the spear into the Kraken and kill it._

Max looked away, ashamed. El’s powers were gone. They’d been gone for a year and they might never come back. It wasn’t fair to put this burden on her.

“Well we’d better come up with something!” Jonathan said. “The raid is going to start in sixty seconds!”

The room went quiet. They all stared out the windows at the Project, where the water churned and bubbled in the red glow of the Gate.

Mike broke the silence. “Let’s go downstairs and see what’s in that maintenance shed.”

Steve raised an eyebrow.“You have an idea, Wheeler?”

“Not yet. But I’m working on it.” 

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The Kraken howled in the lagoon.It thrashed the water with its tentacles and snapped its great jaws in animal rage.Martin Brenner watched the beast and allowed himself a smile.

All his plans were coming to fruition.

The Entity had taken control of the Kraken again, its alien ego and superego lodged inside the great construct of dead flesh. The control implants Brenner had embedded were ready to be triggered. In moments, he would enslave the Entity with the simple push of a button. All its creatures would obey him then and the Upside Down would be his to command.

When you control the king, you control the kingdom.

Meanwhile, the Russian soldiers were in position, ready to ambush Owens’ men as they entered the gate room. Another cadre were headed for the reserve team that waited in the forest with Owens himself. The jaws of the trap were about to close.

It felt like fate. All the stars had aligned.

One worry tugged at the back of Brenner’s mind. He could only see four of the slimy, alien Eaters standing by the lagoon. Brenner wasn’t sure where the others were. It was troubling, but of little consequence. In a moment, they would all belong to him.

“Give me the control device,” he said to the technician behind him.

The man didn’t answer.

Brenner frowned. Perhaps the tech hadn’t heard him. “I said—"

His voice died as he felt hot breath on his neck and a guttural hiss in his ear.

He turned slowly. Only a lifetime of discipline kept the fear off his face.

The tech lay on the ground, his head twisted at an impossible angle and his uniform soaked with blood. Standing above the dead man was Scar. The big Eater clutched the silver control box in its taloned hand. 

Its flower-petal face was inches from Brenner’s own.

Scar closed its fist around the device.Martin Brenner watched his dreams crumple into a twisted ball of metal and wire.

The Kraken roared.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Remo moved down the tunnel, holding his combat knife in a fighting grip. Up ahead, Private Galloway peered around the next bend and gave the all-clear.

So far the raid was like clockwork. At the stroke of seven, the team had advanced to the cliff edge, staying low and moving fast. They’d rappelled to the base of the cliff without incident. There were only two Russians loitering in the dock area and both of them were looking out to sea.Remo led the squad into the sea caves with the enemy none the wiser.

He was a little surprised. He’d expected to come across some sort of resistance by now; a few guards or maybe a soldier strolling outside to get some fresh air. They hadn’t seen anyone. So far, every turn of the humid tunnel had been clear.

This was easy.

Remo frowned.

This was _really_ easy.

“Hold up,” he said. He put up a closed fist, a signal to the squad to freeze in place.

“What’s up, Lieutenant?” asked Lineker.

“I’m not sure.Stay sharp, people. Give me a second.” Remo listened carefully.There was a distant roaring deeper in the tunnels, no doubt the creature they’d dubbed the Kraken. There was the occasional creak of leather or clack of equipment as his team shifted position.He didn’t hear anything else.

In a base filled with Russian soldiers, he didn’t hear any other sounds at all.

A frisson of alarm coursed through him, but he was a pro and he kept his cool. “Knives down.Switch to firearms.”

“You sure, sir?” asked Aponte.

“Affirmative.” Remo sheathed his knife and unslung his rifle. “Something’s not right.”

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Joyce leaned against Hondo’s ATV, waiting.

It was after seven. The raid had started. Now the reserve team listened for the signal.

Joyce snorted at the word. They called it _the signal_ but basically they were waiting for the sound of gunfire. Once they heard it, Sully’s squad would launch the attack on the docks, while Joyce and Owens would do... nothing. It wasn’t really what Joyce had in mind when she insisted on joining the raid.

To be fair, she wasn’t sure what she had in mind.She just knew she had to be here, to make sure all of this - this nightmare that had chased her family for the last four years - was finally over.

She tapped her foot idly.

She didn’t like the waiting. It was excruciating, this feeling that something should be _happening_ and it wasn’t.

Sully and the rest of the team seemed relaxed about it. Joyce supposed it was a soldier’s lot. Their lives were long periods of quiet boredom punctuated by bursts of heart-pounding excitement and fear.

She took a deep breath. The call to action would come. For now, it was quiet.

Joyce frowned. It was very quiet.

“Sam,” she whispered.

Owens was lost in thought and didn’t hear.

“Sam,” she hissed, this time catching his attention.

“What is it, Joyce?”

“The birds stopped singing.”

The look on his face was utter confusion. “What?”

“The birds stopped singing. They were singing just a few minutes ago and now it’s quiet.”

“Maybe because the sun’s going down…” he began, but then it was his turn to frown.

“Sam,” Joyce said, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Lighthouse**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The Party had been in some tough spots before. Mike tried to think of any that were as bad as this one and kept drawing a blank.

_It’ll be okay.We’ll think of something._

Lucas’ bolt cutters and Max’s lockpicks had the maintenance shed open in no time. The building was long and low and packed with supplies. Mike’s eyes roamed the chaos of shelves, cabinets and storage lockers. Somewhere in here was salvation. He just had to find it.

There were four ATVs parked on one side of the shed. Dustin announced that they had good batteries and full tanks of gas.

So that was good.

There wasn’t much else. Some old concrete blocks. Sledgehammers and crowbars and other tools. A few padded safety jackets and maintenance coveralls. An old welding torch. Loose pieces of metal and wire and a few coils of rope.

So that was bad.

Remo and his team were walking into an ambush and there was no way to warn them. The Kraken had risen and there was no way to stop it. The spear was useless and El’s powers were gone. In the face of all that, eight teenagers had to save the world with nothing but a few ATVs and a shed full of junk.

Mike’s mind raced, plotting scenarios and analyzing options.He chewed his fingernails and stared at the cliffs and made calculations in his head.

Then he realized his friends were all looking at him. They weren’t looking at the shed. They were looking at him.There was something in their faces, something he couldn’t quite place.Something that looked like... _faith_.

Faith in him.

“So what’s the plan, Mike?” Lucas asked.

Mike’s eyes swept over them. They were such extraordinary people. Steve and Jonathan and Lucas – warriors who went toe to toe with monsters. Dustin, a mechanical genius with a demodog sidekick. Will the crack shot. Max the daredevil. And El, the superhero, who even without her powers was the best and bravest person Mike had ever known.

All these extraordinary people were waiting for him to tell them what to do.

It swept over him then. He was Mike Wheeler, king of the nerds. He’d been trapped for years in a hole of his own making, lost in his self-doubts and self-hatreds and the black wings that fluttered in his soul. But now, when the chips were down and everything was on the line, all of these amazing people were looking to him to pull a rabbit out of the hat.

El’s face shone with love. Lucas had a little encouraging smile. Steve and Jonathan and Dustin and Will were like soldiers standing by for orders. Even Max, her face etched with worry, stared at Mike like she expected a miracle.

All these special people were looking at him.

They were looking at him like _he_ was special.

It all came together then in his mind. This move here, that person there. They’d only have one chance so it would all have to go right.

It would be dangerous. They’d all have to risk their lives. But that’s what they did, wasn’t it? These amazing people risked their lives to save the world, again and again. Now Mike would have to ask them to do it one more time.

He’d need them all, but a few would be key.El. Will. Dustin.

And himself, of course. He’d have to make the touchdown run, but there was really no way around that.

In his mind, he checked off the list of what they’d need. The ATVs, obviously. A concrete block and Dustin’s tool kit. That heavy maintenance jacket, the welding torch, the shotgun…

“El,” he asked, “those boats down at the dock, they’ll have flare guns right? It’s standard safety equipment?”

“That’s right, Mike,” she said.

“Okay, good. Do we have any bungee cords?”

The Party seemed confused by the question but they all looked around the shed.

“Over there,” Max pointed, “on those shelves.”

“Good.” Mike took a deep breath.He looked from face to face to face and his heart swelled.These incredible people trusted him.They _believed_ in him.

“Okay,” he said.“Here’s the plan.”


	26. The Ambush

_There was the sky above and the sea below and Mike Wheeler was at the center of infinity. There was light and sound and the wind against his skin but most of all there was memory._

_He was twelve when he met her. He could recall every moment like it was yesterday. The rain poured down in the woods. The night was cold, the rain was colder and his breath misted in front of him. The beams of the flashlights pierced the dark. There was Lucas to his left and Dustin to his right and the girl in front of him, pinned by the flashlights and looking so scared and so alone._

_The rain coursed down her pale skin and soaked the yellow shirt that cloaked her all the way to her knees. Her hair was so short, shaved down almost to the skull like she was a boy, but Mike would never, ever mistake her for a boy. She had huge doe eyes and a pert little nose and the delicate features of the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Her chest heaved as she fought fear and cold, and Mike thought it wasn’t just her eyes that were like a doe but all of her. The wrong move, the wrong word, and she would bolt and this beautiful delicate creature would vanish into the woods and that would be the end._

_And he couldn’t bear that. He couldn’t bear that she might disappear and he would never see her again._

_Mike was too young to know love. He thought girls (to the extent he thought about girls) were gross, a distraction from things like Star Wars and dinosaurs and Dungeons & Dragons. But he could never, ever think that about her.When he saw her, this frightened girl in the rain, something in him felt fixed that he hadn’t known was broken. There had been an emptiness in everything he did and now he would never feel empty again._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl in the rain and this is what it said._

_I am yours, for as long as you will have me._

_I will always be yours._

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Lighthouse**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

“All right, Mike,” Lucas said. “It’s the fourth quarter. We’re down by six on our own twenty yard line and we’ve got time for one more play. What do we do?”

Mike’s eyes flicked from face to face to face and finally settled on Eleven. She smiled at him, glowing with trust and love. She believed in him.

In that moment, Mike thought he could do anything.

“All right,” he said. “We’ve got three objectives. One, close the Gate. Two, lure the Kraken into position. Three, take the Kraken down. That means three groups. Everyone got that?” There were murmurs of ‘yes’ and nods all around.

Mike crouched down, grabbed a stick and quickly drew an outline in the dirt. He sketched the lighthouse, the rocky cliffs of the shore, then the harbor and the caves of the Project. “Objective one. Someone has to get into these caves, shut down the comms scrambler and close the Gate. That will be Group One’s job.”

“Gee, Mike, it sounds so easy,” Max sniped.

“I’m glad you think so,” he told her. “Because you’re part of Group One. So are Lucas, Steve, Dustin and Dart.”

There were gasps and groans. Max gripped Lucas by the arm, her knuckles white. The dark-skinned boy patted her hand awkwardly, looking like he could use some comfort himself. Dustin silently mouthed _Shit_.

Only Dart seemed untroubled, idly scratching his head with a hind foot. To be fair, the demodog couldn’t understand a word Mike was saying.

“Damn, Wheeler, thanks for giving us the easy one,” said Steve. The older boy’s voice was thick with sarcasm but Mike sensed an undercurrent of excitement. _Hero_ was what Steve Harrington did best.

“None of this will be easy,” Mike said. “Every objective is dangerous. I’m sorry I have to ask you all to do this, but… it’s save the world time, guys.”

“We’ve done it before,” Lucas murmured.

“That’s right,” Mike said.“We can do this. _You_ can do this.”

Max was deathly pale. Dustin closed his eyes and whispered, “Jesus Christ.” Steve ran a hand through his perfect hair.

Then they all nodded. They were scared, but they nodded just the same.

Group One was in the game.

“Okay,” Mike said, “there’s a guard post here at the cliff edge. It will shoot anyone who tries to make a direct approach along the shore. Instead, Group One will take the ATVs and ride them through the woods to here.” He tapped a spot on his sketch not far from the harbor. “This is about two hundred yards from the guard post. You’ll leave the ATVs here and go the rest of the way on foot. Stick to the shadows.Be stealthy. The good news is there are only two guards. With the advantage of surprise, you should be able to take them out.”

“Piece of cake,” Dustin said weakly.

Mike paused, looking for the right words. “The guards are Russian... but they’re still human. The fate of the world is at stake, so do what you have to. But if you can take them down without killing them… that would be good.”

“Right,” Lucas said.He exchanged a nervous glance with Max.“Right.”

“Once the guard post is secure, get down to the caves and sneak in through the maintenance tunnel here. It doesn’t get much traffic. Hopefully you can go undetected all the way to the gate room. The Russians will be set up to ambush Remo’s team, so they’ll be facing these other tunnels. With luck, you can sneak in right behind them.”

Dustin coughed. “Mike, I notice you keep using words like _hopefully_ and _with luck_.”

“Tell me about it,” Max snapped. “In case you hadn’t noticed Wheeler, if it wasn’t for bad luck we’d have no luck at all.”

Lucas broke in before Mike could speak. “Guys, that’s the beauty of it. Things have to start going our way eventually. We’ve been saving all the good luck up for right now!”

Max’s eyeroll spoke volumes. Dustin looked at Lucas like he’d gone insane.

“You know, I agree with Lucas,” Steve said. “The universe owes me one. It’s time for it to pay up.”

Max and Dustin grumbled but then went quiet. Mike continued. “Okay, once you’re in the caves, your first job is to find the scrambler and disable it. Lucas, Dustin, Steve – you’ve all read _Soldier of Fortune_ so you know what it looks like.”

“Right,” Steve said. “And once we’ve got comms again we can all coordinate. Make sure everything is linked up.”

“That’s right,” said Mike. “Then, your final task… you have to shut down the gate machine.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Max asked angrily.

“That’s where Dustin comes in.” Mike laid a hand on the stocky boy’s shoulder. “Dustin, you’re the tech genius. It’s up to you to shut down the machine.”

Dustin looked at him shock.“Me?”

“There’s no machine that you can’t figure out.I have faith in you. You can do this.”

“I can do this,” Dustin whispered. He swallowed hard.His eyes narrowed and when he spoke again his voice was firm.“I’ve seen a gate machine before. I’ve got some ideas. As long as I’ve got my tool bag… yes.I can do this.”

“Great,” Mike said.A surge of gratitude coursed through him.He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve a friend like Dustin Henderson, but it must have been something special.

He turned to rest of Group One.“You guys — your number one job is to protect Dustin until he closes the Gate. There will be Russians, demogorgons, and who knows what else. It could get pretty crazy. But Dustin’s got the ball and you’ve got to block for him all the way.”

“All the way,” Lucas said.

Dart gave a loud bark.It was as if he understood.

* * *

_There was the sky and the sea and the horizon and Mike Wheeler was at the center. There was the wind and the waves and memory._

_Eleven had saved him. He’d thought the last thing he would ever see were the grey cliffs and the black waters of the quarry. Instead he was safe and whole and all the days of his life stretched in front of him again._

_She lay in the gravel in her pink dress and her denim jacket and her white socks. She was dirty and her nose was bleeding. She was sad and she was tired and when she spoke her voice was wracked with guilt._

_“I opened the Gate, Mike,” she sobbed. “I’m the monster.”_

_His heart filled with anguish and love and he would never, ever let this girl take that burden on herself._

_“No, El, you’re not the monster,” he told her.“You saved me. Do you understand? You saved me.”_

_He hugged her against him and it was the first time he’d ever held her so close. It felt right in a way that nothing had ever felt right before._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl in his arms and this is what it said._

_You saved my life and now it belongs to you._

_My life will always belong to you._

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Lighthouse**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

“Okay, that’s Group One,” Mike said. “Once the Gate is closed, Group Two is up. That’s Will, Jonathan… and El.” He looked at her and his heart knotted with worry, but she just smiled and laid her hand on his.

“What do you need us to do, Mike?” she asked.

He closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself._I’m sending El into danger.Oh god.Oh god oh god oh god._

_I can’t do this._

He took a deep breath. _I have to do this.It’s the only way.Without this, we’ll all die anyway._

Mike opened his eyes, cleared his throat.“Once the guard post on the cliffs is down, Group Two will ride ATVs to the harbor. They’ll sneak down to the second guard post by the docks. There’s one Russian there.”

Steve frowned. “Why don’t they come with Group One from the start? They could help us with the first set of guards.”

“I’m going to need them for a little bit,” Mike said. “I’ll get to that. Anyway – after the second guard post is secure, Group Two will commandeer a speed boat from the docks.They’ll wait until the Gate is closed. The Kraken will be vulnerable then. Group Two’s job will be to lure the Kraken… here.” He tapped a spot in the harbor right next to the cliffs.

“How?” Jonathan asked.

“Use the flares,” Mike told him.“Take as many as you can. They should be enough like fireworks to attract the Kraken and get it to follow you. El will drive the boat, Will shoots the flares, and Jonathan, you’re on guard with the shotgun. You have to keep the Kraken in this spot for ninety seconds. Do you understand? _Ninety seconds_. It will be dangerous. El, you need to drive that boat like your life depends on it – because it does.”

“Don’t worry, Mike,” she said. “I will.”

God, she trusted him so much, it made his heart ache. This amazing girl.

“Will, you keep firing those flares so the Kraken is focused on them and not the boat. _You_ _have to keep it distracted._ One blow of those tentacles and you’ll be done for.”

“Got it,” Will said.He chewed nervously at a fingernail.“Got it.”

“Okay,” Jonathan said, “so the Gate is closed and the Kraken’s in this spot in the harbor. Then what?”

“That’s where Group Three comes in,” Mike said. “Group Three’s job is to kill the Kraken.”

“How?” Max asked. “Will said no human could pierce its hide with the Spear.And it’s not like we’ve got a ballista lying around!”

“I know,” Mike told her. “No human can do it. We need more force, more mass, more speed.”

“And where are we going to find that?” Steve asked.

Mike didn’t say anything. He just turned his head and looked at the El Camino.

The big car’s chrome fenders gleamed in the light of the setting sun. In that moment, it looked like a hulking red and black beast with great metal jaws.

“Oh no,” Steve whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Mike said.

“No. No! This is bullshit!” Steve waved his arms wildly. “I just got that car, Wheeler! I’ve got thirty-three payments left on it!”

“I’m sorry, Steve. Um… fate of the world.”

The older boy’s voice dripped acid. “Your plan sucks, Wheeler. It really sucks.”

“It’s for a good cause, Steve,” said Dustin, resting a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder. Steve groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“So look,” Mike said. “We mount the Spear on the El Camino. We tie it in with rope and wire and El will do some spot welds to make sure it’s really secure. Once the Kraken is in position, Group Three will drive the El Camino from the lighthouse to the harbor cliffs, picking up speed on the way. It’s about a mile, it should take ninety seconds to get there. Group Two, you have to keep the Kraken in position for that long, understand?”

El, Will and Jonathan nodded, their faces filled with anxiety.

Mike continued. “The car will be going seventy miles an hour by the time it reaches the harbor. It weighs thousands of pounds. When it goes off the cliff and rams the Kraken at that speed, that will do it. The Spear will pierce the Kraken’s hide and that goddamn thing will die.”

For a moment there was silence.

Stunned silence.

“Are you kidding me?” Max blurted. “_This_ is how you’re going to kill the Kraken? _Drive a car off a cliff_ and ram it? Are you out of your mind? Who in the world is supposed to take on _that_ suicide mission?”

“Well…” Mike took a deep breath. “Group Three is me.”

* * *

_There was the sky. It floated infinitely above, a deep blue fabric laced with stars. The fading sun lit the edges, turning them pink and yellow, and there were hints of clouds shot with red lining. Mike Wheeler stared into the vastness and there was the wind and the sound of the waves and there was memory._

_They were hiding in the school, late at night, Mike and the girl from the rain with her short soft hair and her big pretty eyes. Mike told her that when it was all over she could live with him, and his parents would be like her parents, and his sister would be like her sister._

_“Would you be like my brother?” the girl asked._

_It was an innocent question but his heart rebelled. He couldn’t keep the sense of wrong off his face. “What? No! No.”_

_She was confused. “Why no?”_

_“Because… because it’s different.” It was different, he knew it was different, but it was hard to explain._

_“Why?” That was always her way. She didn’t disagree, she just didn’t understand. She wanted to understand. Her big eyes searched his and he was lost. His heart knew what it wanted to say, but he was too young to put that into words._

_“I mean… I don’t know. I guess it’s not.” Defeat overwhelmed him. He couldn’t tell her what he felt. He couldn’t even tell himself. He just knew that something was different with her. There was something about her that made him feel things he’d never felt before and he knew he would feel them forever._

_He sighed. “It’s stupid.”_

_Even back then she knew him. They’d been together for only three days but somehow she knew everything about him. He didn’t know how she’d found it all out, but it was like she could see through him, and inside him, and every secret he had was written on his face for her to read._

_“Mike?” she said._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Friends don’t lie.”_

_He felt utterly exposed. She was quiet and soft and her face was so innocent and he was powerless. There was nothing in the world he could ever deny her. “Well… I was thinking, I don’t know… maybe we could go to the Snowball together.”_

_“Snowball?”_

_Her question was innocent again, just trying to understand, but suddenly the Snowball felt so stupid and unworthy and beneath her, but it was all he had. “It’s this cheesy school dance where you go into the gym and dance to music and stuff. I’ve never been but I know you’re not supposed to go with your sister.”_

_“No?”_

_A simple two letter word, framed as a question, and it defeated him. She defeated him at every turn, without even meaning to.“I mean… you can, but it’d be really weird. You go to school dances with someone, you know… someone that you like.”_

_“A friend?” She liked the idea. He hated it. He knew he was her friend and he knew that would never, ever be good enough._

_“Not a friend… someone like a…” He didn’t know how to go on. His heart knew what it wanted but he was too young to say it. He stared into her eyes, her enormous brown eyes, the ones that saw every part of him and stripped him of every defense. He didn’t know what to do. And then he did._

_He kissed her._

_His heart pounded so hard he thought it would explode. Her lips were so soft. He’d never kissed anyone before but he knew this kiss with this girl was the best moment of his life. It was rushed and awkward and surprising and beautiful._

_It was perfect._

_She was startled. Her eyes widened._

_And she smiled._

_He would never forget it. It was a little smile, a shy smile, but it lit the room like the sun and it started a fire in his heart that would never, ever go out._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl with the smile and this is what it said._

_There is only you._

_There will only ever be you._

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Lighthouse**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Mike hadn’t even finished speaking when the shouting started.

“Mike, no!” El cried.

“Jesus Christ dude, are you out of your mind?” gasped Dustin.

There were more shouts from all of them, even Max. Only Dart was quiet, his folded flower-petal face whipping back and forth with every new angry cry.

“Mike, no!” El sobbed again, stomping her foot. She trembled, fighting back tears.

Mike held up calming hands. “Guys, guys, would you listen to me?”

The shouting didn’t stop.

“Guys!” Mike yelled. “Would you shut up and listen? It’s not a suicide mission!”

That seemed to get through. There was one last yell from Will and then everyone was quiet. El stared at Mike, wringing her hands.

“It’s not a suicide mission,” Mike repeated. He took El’s hand and looked around at the rest of his friends. “It’s not. Seriously, I’m not insane. There’s no way I’m going to drive a car off a cliff. That’s what the bungee cords are for.”

El wiped away a tear and frowned. “Bungee cords?”

“I’m with El on this one,” Lucas said. “What the hell are you talking about, dude?”

“Look,” Mike told them, “it would be crazy to drive the car off the cliff. Instead, I’ll drive it halfway there, get the speed up to thirty miles an hour and get it aimed at the Kraken. Once it’s on course, I’ll lock the steering wheel in place with the bungee cords, and put that concrete block on the accelerator. Then I’ll jump out of the car.”

“Jump out of the car!” El gasped. She covered her mouth in horror, tears starting from her eyes.

“It’ll be okay, El!” Mike assured her.“The car will only be going thirty miles an hour and I’ll be wearing that maintenance jacket over there. It’s got a lot of padding. Hollywood stuntmen do stuff like this all the time. Sure, it’ll hurt like hell – I might crack a rib or something – but as long as I cover my head and keep my chin tucked, I’ll be fine.”

“Wheeler, this is crazy,” Steve said.

“It is,” Dustin said thoughtfully, “but it’s just crazy enough to work.” The curly-haired boy stroked his chin. “With the steering wheel locked in position and the cinderblock giving it gas, the car will be like a big speeding missile. As long as the Kraken stays where it’s supposed to, the Spear will take it out. As for Mike jumping out of the car… I think we’ve all seen him do crazier shit than that before.”

The Party nodded grudgingly. Even El.

Mike huffed, insulted. “I don’t do that much crazy stuff.”

“Quarry,” Dustin coughed.

“Tunnels on Halloween,” said Lucas.

“Jumping on a demogorgon’s back,” Max added.

Mike turned to El. “You told her about that?”

El was surprised. “Max is my friend. I tell her everything.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “_Everything?_ Even…”

“Well, not _everything_,” El said. But she looked at the ground and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Mike,” Max sighed, “so far it’s all been disgustingly positive.”

El blushed.

Max crossed her arms over her chest. “Frankly, it’s so positive, I think she’s making some of it up.”

“Max!” El gasped, offended.

“Dude,” said Dustin, giving Mike a thumbs up.

“Um…” Mike blinked, trying to regain his composure. He cleared his throat. “Um, right. So.Everyone knows the plan. Are you all in? Group One? Group Two?”

“We’re in, Mike,” Lucas said. “Let’s do this.”

Dustin held up a hand.“Wait a minute.This isn’t right.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“I mean all this ‘Group One, Group Two’ stuff. We can’t go around calling ourselves that.”

“Are you kidding me, Dustin?” Mike snapped.

“He’s right, Mike,” said Steve. “There’s nothing cool about ‘Group One.’ Just saying.”

The rest of the Party nodded.

Mike stared at them, flabbergasted. _Oh my god_, he thought, _I’m __going into battle with a bunch of first graders_. He threw up his hands. “Fine! Fine. Okay, um, Group One… you’re Red October. You’re taking on the Russians after all.”

“Cool,” said Dustin.

“Group Two,” Mike continued, “you’re… you’re Seahorse.”

“Nice,” Will smiled.

“And Group Three…” Mike frowned, thinking. “Group Three is…”

“Paladin,” said El.

Mike turned to her, surprised. 

El’s face was a tangle of emotions, love and faith and fear and… something else.

Pride.

She was proud of him.

She smiled, her eyes wet with unspilled tears. “Group Three is called Paladin.”

Mike waited for someone to crack a joke or make a snide remark. No one did.

“You’ve got a lance and a steel horse,” said Lucas.“It feels right. You’ve got this, Mike.”

Mike didn’t know what to say. He wiped his eyes. He must have gotten some dust in them.

A long string of cracking pops shattered the air, coming from the direction of the Project.Gunfire.

The ambush.

“That’s it,” Mike said. “It’s starting. Red October, you’re up.”

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The tunnel pulsed with red light. It was a sickly hue that could only come from the Gate.

They were almost there.

“Stay frosty, people,” Remo muttered. He fought the urge to clutch his M-16 in a death grip. He was a pro. He kept his breathing easy and measured, his muscles loose but ready to snap into action. His eyes flicked over the walls, the red-lit archway ahead, and Lineker and Galloway beside him. It was only the three of them, closing the final distance to the gate chamber.

The last twist in the tunnel was ten meters behind them. The rest of the team waited there with Sergeant Aponte.They would be safe there when the trap sprung.

It was a trap. Remo had no doubt now. The Russians were waiting for them in the cave ahead. It was tough to walk into an ambush, but when you knew it was coming, it gave you a chance. It was the kind of chance that Remo had to take himself. He wasn’t the kind of leader who ordered someone into danger while he waited behind.

Just a few meters to go.

He tapped Lineker and Galloway on the shoulder and held up three fingers. He counted them down silently… three, two, one, and then all three men sprinted into the gate chamber, weapons at the ready.

The place was huge, a vast cave filled with machinery, consoles, computers and other gear. Half of it was taken up by a great lagoon leading out to the harbor. At the far end of the cave, the whirling, churning mechanism of the gate machine fired tendrils of light into the red tear in space that was the Gate. The whole place was bathed in a halo of crimson light that made Remo think of Hell.

Even as he ran, his eyes picked up targets. Russian soldiers were crouched in firing positions, their weapons trained on the tunnel entrance. Behind them were a group of the nine foot monstrosities that the Hawkins children called demogorgons. And in the lagoon…

The Kraken. A thing out of nightmare. A fifty foot behemoth of mouths and teeth and tentacles that radiated evil.

The Russians started firing. They hadn’t expected their targets to rush into the cave and the first rounds went astray. Remo and his companions were behind the cover of a large generator before their foes could get range.

They were safe for the moment but heavily outnumbered. The odds were grim.

“Pop smoke!” Remo shouted and Lineker hurled a canister at the tunnel they’d just exited. Remo and Galloway started laying down fire.

Thick clouds of green smoke filled the tunnel and drifted through the cave. It was the signal for the rest of Remo’s team to advance and it cloaked their approach at the same time. Aponte led them through the smoke and into the cave, firing as they went. One of the men dropped but the rest scrambled to cover.

Remo’s eyes snapped across the battlefield as he fired. His team were safe for the moment but they were pinned down. His unit relied on speed, skill and sharp tactics. If his people couldn’t manuever, the weight of the Russian numbers would eventually overwhelm them.

Then the Russians started screaming – not battle cries, but panic. One of them went down in a bloody tangle of claws, then another.

Remo couldn’t believe it.

_The demogorgons were attacking the Russians._

One of the Kraken’s great tentacles lashed out. A Russian technician dropped, dead before his body hit the ground.

“What the fuck?” Lineker gasped.

“I don’t know,” Remo said, “but let’s take advantage—”

The cave wall behind him exploded in a shower of rock. There were more explosions along the rim of the cave.

_Demogorgons_. They’d Walked through the walls and were attacking his team from behind. Galloway collapsed under a pair of scything claws before Remo could react.

“Weapons free!” Remo yelled.

His men started blazing fire in all directions. It was a three sided battle royal, the Upside Down against the Russians against Remo’s team in a storm of bullets and claws and chaos. All of it played out under the pulsing red glow of the Gate and the howls of the Kraken.

Remo cursed. This was not part of the plan.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – The Project**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Hunt-In-The-Light-World watched the white-haired human tremble before him. This male the humans called Brenner was dangerous, even more so than the big male they called Grigori. But it was Brenner’s mind that was dangerous, not his body, and now that Hunt had crushed the Slave Machine in his talons, the man was nothing. The white-haired human would never again threaten God, never again scheme to take over His body and command His thoughts.

Now was the time for vengeance.

Hunt could smell the fear flowing off Brenner in waves and it was delicious.

Then the shooting started.

Hunt whirled as the human weapons banged, flinging their little pieces of brass and lead around the cave. The humans were shooting each other, battling in one of their intra-species feuds. Hunt had trouble keeping the human factions separate. All he knew was that now they were at each other’s throats.

It didn’t matter. God gave the command. _Kill them all._

Hunt turned back to the white-haired human, but Brenner was gone. The sneaky male had taken his opportunity and fled the moment Hunt’s back was turned. It was of little consequence. Hunt would kill Brenner soon or perhaps that pleasure would fall to God.

Now there would be slaughter. The One-Who-Was-All had come through the Gate, and He was filled with power and He would never be controlled by Brenner’s Slave Device. Hunt and the other Eaters would kill everything in this cave and then they would bring more of their kind from the Dark World. They would overrun the Light World and consume it.

God was free and nothing would stop Him.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine – Reserve Team Muster Point**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Joyce hid behind Hondo’s ATV when the shooting started. There were Russians in the woods and they’d brought a hail of sharp, cracking gunfire with them. Thanks to Joyce, Sully’s squad was ready.The soldiers sheltered behind their armored vehicles and fired back into the trees. For the moment it was a stalemate.

Next to her, Sam chuckled.“The birds stopped singing.That was brilliant, Joyce.You should be a police detective or something.”

Joyce dug her fingers into the carpet of leaves, trying to make herself one with the ground as the bullets sang overhead. Sam peered over the top of the ATV. Now and then he squeezed off a shot from his pistol, but mostly he kept his head down and let Hondo do the firing.

“Sam,” Joyce hissed, “give me a gun.”

“What? No way, Joyce. You need to stay down, hug the ground, and leave this to the professionals. The last thing we need is a civilian—“

“Sam!” Joyce said angrily. “I’m not going to just sit here while all this shooting is going on. Give me a gun! Or I’ll crawl over to Sully’s ATV and grab one of those rifles.”

Owens scowled but reached into his backpack. He handed Joyce a gun, a semi-automatic Walther PPK like his own. He passed her two clips of ammo. “I should get my head checked for doing this,” he muttered. “Do you even know how to use one of these?”

Joyce released the ammo catch, checked the clip, and slapped it back home in one smooth, flowing motion. Sam’s eyes widened.

“Trust me, Sam,” Joyce said. “I’m full of surprises.”

She crouched next to him as the Russian guns banged in the woods. She gripped the pistol and took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to let this go on any longer. The nightmare that haunted her family for four years would end tonight, even if she had to kill every last Russian herself.

* * *

_There was the sea. It surged below, from the base of the cliffs to the horizon far away. The waves churned, white-capped, rolling from the edge of eternity until they broke across the beach and spilled away. Mike Wheeler looked into the blue depths and there was water and salt and spray and there was memory._

_It was night and they were in the school and the demogorgon had found them. Mike handed Lucas rocks for the Wrist Rocket but it wasn’t working. Lucas took the monster-killer then, the special rock from the playground that cut Mike’s chin, and he fired.The demogorgon hurtled into the wall._

_Eleven walked past them toward the monster._

_“Eleven, stop!” Mike shouted but she flung him back with a wave of her arm. He could only watch as she walked to the great evil thing that was pinned to the wall by her mind._

_She looked back once and said, “Goodbye, Mike.”_

_Mike Wheeler never cried but he cried then for her._

_She turned to the monster and put out her hand and blood dripped from her nose. Black flakes spilled into the air as the monster died.They engulfed her, swirling around her in a whirlwind of ash, and then she was gone._

_The girl from the rain was gone. Mike’s heart curled in on itself, and there was so much pain, and Mike knew his heart would never heal.If she was gone, truly gone, the pain would be there forever._

_He searched the school, screaming her name until he was hoarse and he couldn’t make a sound. And the boy who never cried kept crying._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl who was gone and this is what it said._

_I will remember you._

_I will always remember you._


	27. The Red October

_There was the sky above and the sea below.There was the sand and the shore, the waves and the rocks, the trees and the cliffs, and there was memory._

_Mike sat in the little fort in the basement. It was the fort he’d built for her._

_He turned on the Supercomm the way he'd done time and time again. He called her every day. She never answered, but he called her just the same._

_He knew he would never stop. He would call her every day until she answered, even if that was all the days of his life._

_He spoke into the Supercomm, praying she could hear. "It's day three hundred and fifty-three. I had a bad day today. I don't know... I guess I wish you were here. I mean, we all do."_

_He stared into the darkness of the basement. "If you're out there, please, give me a sign."_

_Static._

_Then there was... something. Mike didn't know what it was, he couldn't see it, he couldn't hear it, but he felt it.It was her. She was there._

_There was nothing but the fort and the Supercomm and the dark basement, but Mike was sure he saw her big doe eyes and her pert little nose and she was alive and she was beautiful._

_A voice whispered in his mind and in his heart. It was her voice.She said one word._

_“Mike.”_

_"Eleven?" he whispered into the dark._

_Then she was gone._

_There was nothing. Mike turned off the Supercomm.He walked away from the little fort in the basement that he'd built just for her._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl who wasn't there and this is what it said._

_I will wait for you._

_I will wait for you forever._

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Woods**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

It. Was. On.

Steve Harrington rocketed through the woods on the ATV. Trees flashed by at blazing speed, a blur of leaves and trunks and low-hanging branches.Henderson sat behind him, clinging to Steve's waist and screaming.

It was like the kid thought Steve was going to crash.

Not a chance. Steve drove the ATV with the lightning reflexes of a Professional Monster Hunter. There was no way he would wreck now, not with everything on the line.

Steve Harrington was born for this shit.

Dart raced beside the four-wheeler, his flower-petal face unfurled as he gulped for air. The demodog sprang over roots and leaped over ditches. Now and then he barked with excitement. It was like going for a run in the park with a happy, scaly, horrifying Golden Retriever.

Steve pulled the ATV to a halt in a small clearing. Dustin kept screaming, the sound dying to a choking hiss as Steve turned the engine off.

"Holy shit," Dustin said. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy _shit_."

"Come on, dude," said Steve. "It wasn't that bad."

"It wasn't that bad? Steve, my entire life flashed in front of my eyes! And I haven't been alive that long, so I actually got to watch it _twice_."

Max pulled up beside them on a second ATV. Lucas was in the companion seat behind her, his arms around her waist. She shot the dark-skinned boy a dirty look as she turned off the ignition.

"You got a little handsy when we caught air on that hill," she snapped. "Pervert."

"It was an accident, Max, I swear! I thought I was going to fall. I had to grab _something_."

The red-haired girl gave him the mother of all eyerolls. Lucas tried to look contrite but the grin on his face didn’t help.

"You guys got here fast," Max said, pointedly ignoring her boyfriend.

"Thanks to Evel Knevel here," muttered Dustin.

"Just a Sunday drive in the park," Steve grinned. He grabbed his satchel, backpack and spiked bat off the four-wheeler. "This is where Wheeler said we should leave the ATVs. Everyone gear up. We go on foot from here."

The foursome moved fast and low through the trees, Dart scuttling behind them. They stopped at the edge of the tree line, hiding behind a thick stand of bushes. Lucas pulled pairs of binoculars from his backpack and handed them around. The four teens carefully peeked through the leaves.

"There's the guard post, right on the cliff edge," Steve murmured. "Looks like maybe fifty yards of open ground between here and there."

"Look at the guards," Max said, hope in her voice. "They're not even looking this way. They keep staring at the harbor."

"I guess that's where the action is," Lucas mused.

The crackling sounds of gunfire ripped through the night. The teens could see flashes of light sparking in the big sea cave beside the docks.They were little bright dots against the unearthly red glow from the Gate.

"Listen to that," said Steve. "It sounds like a major battle."

Dustin nodded.“Remo and his team must be hanging tough.This is our chance."

Steve crouched behind the bushes. "Right, let’s huddle up. We need a plan."

The others knelt beside him. Dart yawned and scratched his side.

"The guards aren't looking this way,” Steve said, “so we should be able to sneak over there without being seen. But we need a way to take them out."

Dustin thought for a moment and then dug into his backpack.He pulled out the Smith & Wesson.It gleamed in the dying light.

"What are you doing with that?" Lucas gasped. "You were supposed to give it to Will!"

"Will's got the flare gun. Besides, I thought it might come in handy."

"Not with you shooting it! The safest place to stand would be where you're aiming!"

"And Mike said we shouldn’t kill the Russians," Max hissed. "I agree with him. They may be commies but they're still human beings."

"I wasn't going to shoot them!" Dustin said, offended. "Just threaten them. If we get the drop on them we can tell them to surrender. Once they're disarmed, there are zip ties in my bag we can use as handcuffs."

"You know, that’s not a bad idea," Steve said. He peered through the bushes at the Russians. "The problem is there's two guards and only one gun. If we can knock one of them out, we can hold the gun on the other."

Lucas tapped his lead pipe. "Maybe I can hit one of them with this?"

"Maybe," Dustin said, "but this isn't the movies. If you hit someone with a pipe in real life, you might bash their skull in. We need something more forgiving."

Steve held up his satchel."I've got just the thing."

"What's in there?" asked Lucas.

"The _Collected Works of William Shakespeare_."

"Great," Max snorted. "What’s your plan, Steve?You're going to _bore_ them into submission?"

"I'm not going to _read_ it to them," Steve said. "I'm going to hit them with it. Seriously, look at this thing. It's like five hundred pages. It can do some serious damage _without_ busting someone's head open."

The other three teens nodded. "Good plan," said Dustin. He paused. "What about Dart?"

"What about him?" asked Max, looking at the demodog with thinly disguised revulsion.

"I don't think we want him anywhere near those soldiers," said Steve. "He'd probably eat them or something. Can you tell him to stay here?"

Dustin shrugged. He pointed at the demodog. "Dart, stay here."

Steve rolled his eyes. "_I_ could have done that. I mean, can’t you talk to him in Upside Down or something?"

"Oh, sure Steve. Wait a minute — I don't know how to speak Upside Down._No one_ knows how to speak Upside Down."

The older boy frowned. "Well, do you think he understood you?"

"Steve, he has five jaws and no face. I have no idea if he understood me."

Dart sat back on his haunches then and barked.

"Maybe he did understand me," Dustin gasped, pleased. "Sit, Dart. Stay. Good demodog."

"Close enough," Steve sighed. He stood, dusting off his jeans. "Let’s go take out that guard post."

Max held up a restraining hand."Wait a minute.Let me get this straight.The plan is that we take out a Russian guard post with threats and a book of Shakespeare?Are you guys sure about this?"

"Come on, Max," Lucas grinned, "it's a great plan. What could possibly go wrong?"

The red-haired girl glared at him. "You have got to stop saying that." 

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Project Docks**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The Russian soldier looked at the harbor and yawned. Speedboats rocked gently beside the dock as the waves rolled past. Gunfire crackled from the sea cave at the other end of the harbor, but on the docks, everything was calm.

It was just his luck that when the capitalist running dogs launched their raid, _he_ would have guard duty. His fellow soldiers were gunning down American imperialists in the cave, and he was watching empty boats and _running out of cigarettes_.

He'd just smoked the last one.

The soldier patted his pockets but found nothing but an empty, half-crushed soft pack.It was one of the American brands, _Camel_. The American cigarettes were better than the half-tobacco, half-sawdust ones he got in the Soviet Union.Unfortunately, they were so good he always smoked them too fast.

He glanced around the harbor. There was no one. Not a soul except himself and his two comrades standing watch on the cliff above.

More gunfire cracked from the cave.

This was silly. Nothing was going to happen out here. All the action was across the harbor by the Gate. If he ran to the top of the cliff to grab a few cigarettes from the men there, his sergeant would never know.

He grabbed his rifle. He would be quick. No one would ever know he was gone.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Lighthouse**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Mike gave the El Camino a sympathetic pat. The big machine never really had a chance, he thought.Every one of Steve Harrington’s cars seemed doomed to destruction.

He wired the Spear into place against the car’s rear roof support and braced the base of the weapon against the tailgate. El was already securing the Spear with spot welds against the passenger door. She wore a pair of dark goggles and put the welds in place with practiced skill. Her little hands guided the blazing torch with quick, precise motions.

She finished the last weld and cut off the flame, pushing the goggles up on her forehead. There was a little smudge of grease on her cheek.

Mike couldn't help noticing how very... sexy... she looked.

_Good lord, the fate of the world is at stake,_ he berated himself. _Now is not the time to start thinking about... things._

El wiped sweat from her brow with a delicate hand.

_But look at that adorable smudge on her cheek_, a voice inside Mike groaned. _The way those goggles push up her hair and frame her face. The way she bites her lower lip when she concentrates and it just makes you want to kiss her..._

Mike shook his head, trying to clear it. _Dude, sometime in the next fifteen minutes you're going to jump out of a speeding car. Would you clamp down on your raging hormones for once and fucking focus?_

El noticed him staring. "Is everything okay, Mike?"

"Um, yeah El. I was just thinking about... something."

She smiled sympathetically and took his hand. "Mike, you don't have to do this. We can come up with another plan."

Of course, El would assume he was worried about jumping out of the car. Because in a time of crisis, with the future of the planet on the line, only an oversexed pervert would be thinking about how hot his girlfriend looked in welder's goggles. Only a pathetic horndog would be thinking about how amazing her skin looked when it was shiny with sweat and smudged with grease...

_For fuck's sake, Mike, get it together._

"This is the only plan I can think of," he said, forcing his poorly timed musings to the back of his mind. "At least for now. We don't exactly have a lot to work with."

"I know," El said reluctantly. She gripped his hand tighter. "But does it have to be you, Mike? Can't someone else drive the car?"

His heart ached. This girl. She was so worried for him, and she loved him, and he didn't know what he'd ever done to deserve her.

"The car's a stick shift," he told her gently. "Other than me, only Steve, Max and Jonathan can drive one. Steve and Jonathan are our best fighters.We need them on the front lines. And could you ever see Lucas letting Max jump out of a car?"

"But Mike..." She searched for words but couldn't find the ones she wanted.

"It has to be me, El. With the wound I got last night, I'm not good for much except driving a car." He leaned down and kissed her softly, then rested his forehead against hers. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Her eyes searched his."Promise?"

"I promise."

Eleven kissed him then, a quick kiss, but hard and forceful and in some way _desperate_, and then she stepped away.

She pulled the goggles back into place and fired up her torch. She went back to welding, and if every now and then she paused to look at Mike, it was only for a moment. Mike tucked every one of those moments away into his heart.

He surveyed the El Camino. They'd knocked out the car’s windows to make room for the Spear. The weapon was mounted on the passenger side, secured with wires and spot welds. The gleaming silver tip stuck out a yard in front of the car.It was exactly as Mike had imagined it, a four-thousand pound battering ram with sport suspension and custom tires.

_A steel horse with a silver lance._

Just what a Paladin needed to slay a dragon.

There was a clatter as Jonathan and Will dumped the driver's side door on the ground. They'd been working at it with pry bars and wrenches and had finally got it free.

"There you go, Mike," Jonathan said. "The door's gone. You should be able to roll right out of the car with no problem."

"Other than hitting the ground," said Will. He tried to make it sound like a quip, some tough guy line from an action movie, but there was a quaver in the small boy's voice.

"Don't worry," Mike told him gently. "It will be a piece of cake."

El finished welding the base of the spear to the tailgate and snapped off her torch. "All set, Mike.”

Mike nodded. "It's great. All of you, this is great. Thank you."

_Thank you for preparing a rolling death trap for me to jump out of._

His friends didn’t know what to say.Finally Jonathan shrugged and peered down the shoreline toward the Russian guard post. "Red October should be in position by now. Let's see how they're doing." 

* * *

There was just a sliver of sun on the horizon and the light was getting low. Mike could make out the guard post, the two Russians looking at the harbor, and the dim shapes of his four friends creeping toward the target.

He adjusted the focus on his binoculars. "I don't see Dart."

"They probably left him in the woods so he doesn't eat the guards," said Jonathan.

"They're getting close," Will said. The small boy peered intently through his binoculars. "Oh shit.Dustin has the .44 with him."

"Damn," Mike muttered. "That's not good. There's no telling what will happen if he starts shooting. _We_ might not be safe, even way back here."

Jonathan frowned. "Steve has something in his hand.Is that a book bag?"

"They're going for it!" Will hissed. "They're going for it! They... wow."

Jonathan lowered his binoculars, surprised. "That was pretty impressive."

Through the lenses, Mike could see one of the Russian guards was down, felled by a blow from Steve's heavy bag. The other guard had his hands in the air as Dustin waved the Smith & Wesson wildly.

"They were like... ninjas," Will breathed.

"Mike,” El said, her voice tight."There's another guard! Over to the left!"

MIke scanned the cliff with his binoculars, the terrain moving wildly in the viewfinder. Then he spotted the man, a stern looking Russian stalking toward the guard post with his rifle at the ready.

"It must be the guard from the docks,” Will gasped. “He came to the top of the cliff!"

"They don't see him,” Jonathan said. "They're busy tying up the other guards!”

Mike cursed."We have to warn them.Do we have a flare or something—“

"Too late!" cried Will.

The Russian was yelling, waving his rifle at Steve and the rest of Red October. The man drew back the firing pin on the weapon.

Mike could only watch as his friends put up their hands. The plan had just started and it was already going wrong.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Guard Post**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Steve dropped the satchel and threw his hands in the air. "Where did this guy come from?" he asked, bewildered.

"Don't shoot!" Dustin yelled. "Don't shoot! We surrender." Max and Lucas were shouting too, dropping their gear as the Russian waved his gun at them.

"Shit, that’s an AK-47," Lucas gasped.

Steve ground his teeth. It had been like clockwork up until now. The first Russian soldier had dropped the moment Steve smacked him with the _Collected Works_. The other guard had practically fallen over himself in his hurry to surrender. Max and Lucas bound the two men with zip ties and then...

And then, once again, the universe decided to stick it to Steve Harrington. A third Russian popped up out of nowhere and the whole plan went to hell.

The guard snarled something in Russian.“Тупые американские подростки! Сейчас я вас прикончу!”

"Henderson,” Steve hissed, “you started studying Russian after Starcourt. What did he say?"

The stocky boy's face was pale. "Um, I'm not sure I caught the whole thing, but basically he said, 'Stupid American teenagers, now I'm going to kill you.' Or words to that effect."

Steve turned to the Russian, outraged. "Well that's not very friendly!"

"And who does he think he's calling stupid?" Lucas sputtered.

"If the shoe fits, wear it," Max said under her breath.

The dark-skinned boy turned to her, his hands still up in the air. "Excuse me?You're taking _the Russian’s_ side?”

"Lucas, this whole plan - this whole _vacation_ \- was a stupid idea! Do you remember what I said last month?I said, 'Hey, let's go to Wisconsin for vacation and have fun by the lake,' but nooo._You_ insisted we go to Maine with your _stupid_ friends because you missed out on the action last Christmas!Well, you've got plenty of action now, don't you?"

Lucas dropped his hands, angrily jabbing his finger into his palm. "I didn't say I missed out on the action! I said I missed seeing my friends! Look, we always go where _you_ want to go on holiday..."

Steve could only watch, stunned, as the couple bickered furiously, waving their arms and pointing their fingers. Dustin and the Russian stared with open mouths.

The teens kept yelling with no sign of stopping.Finally the Russian stepped forward. He screamed something that could only be, "Shut up! Shut up!"Then he raised his rifle and pointed it at Lucas.

That's when Steve realized Max had rolled Lucas' pipe toward her while she yelled.It was resting on top of her foot.

In one smooth motion, honed by years of flipping skateboards, Max kicked the pipe in the air and right into her boyfriend’s palm. Lucas didn't hesitate, slamming it into the Russian's face. The man screamed and fell back, blood streaming from his broken nose.

Steve snatched his satchel from the ground and brought it down on the Russian’s head. The man collapsed, out cold.

For a moment the four teens just stared at each other.

"Holy shit, that was amazing!" Dustin gasped. "I can't believe it!I thought you guys were really arguing!"

"Well, we do like to argue," Max said.She wrapped a hand in the front of Lucas' shirt and pulled him toward her. "And some of us are _definitely_ stupid. But..."

She batted her eyes at her boyfriend.

"Are you calling me stupid?" Lucas asked, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I suppose if the shoe fits—“

Max cut him off with a kiss. A long, deep kiss.

"You were so awesome," she told him when their lips parted. There was an intensity in her voice and nothing at all flirty.

"You were too," Lucas breathed.

Steve couldn’t believe it.Last December, Mike and El made out while a demogorgon was hunting them.Now, Lucas and Max were getting frisky _while the fate of the world was at stake_.Honestly, what was in the water these kids were drinking?

"All right, all right, save that for later," he said.Max and Lucas had the decency to look embarrassed. "We've still got work to do. Dustin, signal Seahorse and Paladin that the way is clear."

Dustin grabbed a flashlight from his backpack, pointed it back down the shoreline and clicked it on and off three times. A moment later, two flashes came from the base of the lighthouse.

"Okay, that wasn’t a bad start," Steve said. "Not exactly the way we planned it, but close enough. Now let's get down to that maintenance tunnel and hope we don't run into any more surprises. Dustin, you'd better call Dart. I've got a feeling we're going to need him."

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Lighthouse**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Mike lowered his binoculars, trying to get his pounding heart under control. "That was... interesting."

"That was _close_," said Jonathan.

Mike rubbed his forehead.“Do you think the plan’s too complicated?I mean, we’re already having to improvise.I knew we’d have to eventually, but it’s so soon...”

El laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Mike, don’t worry. Your plan is working."

"It's actually going better than we expected," said Jonathan. "Red October took out the third Russian for us. We can go straight down to the docks now and grab a boat."

Mike smiled weakly. "Right. That's right."

For a moment there was silence and then Jonathan coughed."I guess we’d better go."

Mike looked at El. His beautiful, brave, amazing El. His eyes searched her face, memorizing it one more time, even though he knew every line and curve by heart.

"El, be careful," he said. "If you run out of flares, if the Kraken gets too close, get out of there. Don't worry about the plan, just get out of there. We'll figure out another way."

She took his hand. "Mike, it will be okay.”

"I just... I can't lose you. I won't lose you."

El stroked his cheek. "You won't lose me, Mike. You'll never lose me."

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. It was a gentle kiss, soft and lingering.

There was a fluttering of dark wings and a voice murmured in his mind.

_This could be your last kiss._

Mike pushed the voice away.

_It won’t be_, he told the darkness coiled inside him. _This will come out right. This will come out right and I will love this girl until I die and even after that. I will love her until the sun burns out and the stars go cold._

The wings went quiet.

They broke the kiss. El’s eyes drifted to the car, her Paladin’s metal steed.She stroked Mike’s face again."I love you," she said. "Come back to me."

"I will," he promised.

She turned away. Will and Jonathan were already on the ATVs, waiting for her.

"El," Mike called and she turned to look back at him. "El... I love you too. I'll see you soon."

He didn't know if he was lying. He didn't think so.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Dustin peered out of the maintenance tunnel into the great cave that held the Gate. He saw a scene out of nightmare.His heart sank.

Just when things had been going so well.

Sure, there had been a hiccup back at the guard post, but that had turned out okay.Then Red October had crossed the docks with no problem at all. The maintenance tunnel had turned out to be unguarded. Dustin and his friends didn’t run into a single Russian in the few minutes it took to reach the Gate Chamber.

And now... _shit_.

It was like something out of _Apocalypse Now_ mixed with a big helping of _Aliens_.

The cave pulsed with the red glow of the Gate. That monstrous tear in the fabric of space dominated the far end of the cave. In front of it, the gate machine churned, pumping crackling bolts of energy into the gap between dimensions.

Against that crimson backdrop, chaos reigned.

It was a free for all. Dustin could see Remo's men, hardened soldiers in black fatigues, firing in all directions with their M-16s. Some were locked in hand to hand combat with Russians or demogorgons.They fought like lions.

Then there were the Russians. There were a lot of them and they bunched together for support, but fear shone in their eyes. Dustin was shocked to see the Russians weren’t just fighting Remo's men, but the demogorgons too.They emptied clip after clip as the monsters tore them apart.

Dustin couldn’t understand it. The demogorgons weren't fighting alongside the Russians. The demogorgons were killing _everybody_.

Over it all loomed the Kraken. The great beast hulked in the lagoon, lashing out with tentacles and claws and teeth, killing any human within reach. The creature thrashed and roared, raining destruction down all around it.

It was right next to the gate machine.

Anyone who tried to get near the device would be dead in seconds.

"Does Mike really expect us to go over there?" Max gasped.“I’m sorry, but that is bullshit.”

"Did I thank Wheeler for giving us the easy ones?" Steve snarled. "Because I really should thank Wheeler for giving us the easy ones."

Dart growled at the Kraken, an angry rumbling deep in his throat. Dustin patted the demodog half-heartedly.

"Forget the gate machine for now," Lucas said. "We need to find the scrambler and shut it down. Then we can worry about the Gate."

Steve nodded.“Good idea.We’ll take this one step at a time.And the good news—“

“There’s good news?” snapped Max.

“_The good news_ is that the Russians are facing away from us, just like Wheeler said.”

Dustin realized Steve was right.The Soviets faced the main entrance to the cave where Remo's team were battling. The maintenance tunnel was behind the Russian lines with no one watching it.

Dustin looked around the cave, trying to find the scrambler. It was a hopeless task, with the smoke and the flames and the crackles of gunfire. There were machines and control consoles scattered around the vast chamber and the scrambler could be any one of them...

"Isn't that it right there?" Lucas asked. He pointed at a small console just ten yards away.

"How about that," said Steve. "Maybe our luck is finally changing."

A howl echoed through the cavern as the Kraken grabbed two Russian soldiers and stuffed them into its maw.

"Maybe not," Steve muttered.

They scrambled over to the jamming device, taking cover behind a bank of computers.Bullets whined overhead.

“You're the tech genius,” Steve said to Dustin. “How do we turn this off?"

"Um..."Dustin’s eyes roamed the scrambler. Status lights blinked in green and amber. There were labels under each one, but they were so vague they could mean anything. No help there.

He frowned. _That_ piece there had to be the frequency modulator. That one over _there_ was the transmitter. So that would mean _this_ conduit should—

Max reached over and pushed a button. All the status lights went out and the machine turned off.

"What did you do?" Lucas gasped.

Max rolled her eyes. "Well, I might not read _Soldier of Fortune_, but I know an on/off button when I see one."

Dustin struggled for words. "That's... that's _cheating_."

“We’ll take it where we can get it,” Steve said.He dug the Supercomm out of his pack and keyed it on. "Paladin, Seahorse, this is Red October. The scrambler is down, repeat the scrambler is down."

In a moment, Mike's voice crackled over the line. "That's great Red October! Good job. What is your location?"

"Um..." Steve looked around."We're in the big sea cave with the Gate. We're in cover behind some computer banks."

The Supercomm crackled again."Can you see the gate machine?"

"Yes."

"Can you get to it and shut it off?"

Steve paused for a moment and looked at the Kraken.Its tentacles wrapped around a Russian tech and pulled the man screaming into the lagoon.

The creature was an avatar of pure destruction.

Steve keyed the Supercomm. "Uh... we might have a little bit of a problem."

* * *

_There was the dark sky and the moon and the last sliver of the sun. There were the clouds, glowing pink and purple, and there was memory._

_Mike was in the Byers' house.Everyone was there - Hopper and Joyce, Jonathan and Nancy, Steve and the Party.Even Will. Poor Will. He was Will be he also wasn't Will because part of him was something else._

_They were waiting for the demodogs, waiting for their final moments, and then one of the creatures came through the window.It was already dead._

_Then the door opened._

_And there she was._

_It was the girl Mike had known for six days and lost for three hundred and fifty-three more. The girl from the rain. The girl who owned his heart._

_She looked different. She was older of course. Taller. Her hair was longer and she'd slicked it back. Her eyes were dark with makeup._

_She looked the same. She was delicate and soft and frail with big doe eyes._

_She looked beautiful._

_Mike realized he was staring and she was staring too. Then she smiled. _ _She smiled at him._

_He smiled back._

_He said her name and she said his name and then she was in his arms. The girl from the rain was in Mike's arms, and it was only the second time he'd ever held her, but it was so, so right and he'd been waiting for this forever._

_She was crying._

_"I never gave up on you," he said, wanting her to know that he'd longed for her every single day."I called you every night. Every night for—“_

_"Three hundred fifty-three days," she said. She smiled at him through her tears."I heard."_

_His heart broke and put itself back together.Then confusion rippled through him. "Why didn't you tell me you were there? That you were okay?"_

_It was Hopper who spoke, his voice gruff. "Because I wouldn't let her."_

_El's face filled with sadness then, and hurt. And Mike knew in that moment that she'd longed for him. Mike knew that she had missed him the way he had missed her._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl who missed him and this it what it said._

_Every day that you were gone, I heard your voice in the wind.I saw your face in my dreams.I didn't give up on you._

_I will never give up on you._


	28. The Seahorse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again everyone! I hope you’re all safe and well.
> 
> Sorry again that this chapter took so long, but I’ve been dealing with the logistics of this crazy new world we live in. Not only that, but this is my longest chapter yet, with a lot of scenes, and it just took a long time to write. I hope you like it.
> 
> Let me take this moment to give a shout out to the wonderful commenter JustMe who helped me out with some Russian language in this story. Thank you so much, you are a gem!
> 
> Also let me thank everyone who is reading along and the wonderful commenters who graciously leave their thoughts on this story. You guys are the best! Please stay safe. My best wishes go out to all of you.

_There was the sea below. It rolled with the winds and the tide. The waters were dark and laced with golden threads from the dying sun. Waves crested and broke in foaming white. There was the water and the waves and the wind and there was memory._

_Mike sat alone, shoulders slumped. It was his first school dance.He’d carried so many hopes for this night but the reality was bitter.The evening had been long and lonely and he’d never been so disappointed in all his life._

_The gymnasium at least looked the part. The place had been transformed into a fairyland of silver icicles, white streamers and blue balloons. It was a glittering wonder at the heart of Hawkins Middle School._

_A song was playing.It was “Every Breath You Take” by The Police. Mike liked it.It was a good song._

_Eleven hadn’t come. Mike had waited all night, craning his neck every time the door opened, but it was never her. The dance was almost over and she wasn’t coming._

_That wasn’t her fault, of course. Mike would never blame her, not for anything. Hopper must have decided it was too risky. Mike couldn’t complain. El’s safety had to come first._

_It still hurt._

_Then she was there._

_El didn’t see him at first. She looked around the gym, nervous and even a bit frightened to see so many people. She wore a grey dress with puffy sleeves and her hair was parted on one side and she wore a little too much makeup. Hopper must have helped her with that._

_She was the prettiest thing Mike had ever seen._

_He stood and after a moment she saw him.He stared at her and she stared at him. Mike thought he should say something, do something, go to her, but he was frozen.Then he realized she was frozen too.She was anxious and excited and uncertain, just like he was._

_He smiled at her then, just a little, and she smiled back, just a little._

_Mike crossed the gym until he stood in front of her. He knew he had to say something now or he would do nothing but stare at her all night, giving her little smiles and never telling her what he felt in his heart._

_"You look beautiful," he said, and he'd never meant any three words so much in his entire life._

_El smiled bashfully and looked at her feet. She didn't say anything._

_“Do you want to dance?" he asked._

_She looked around, her eyes wide, watching the couples swaying to the silver notes of the song. "I don't know how," she confessed._

_There were so many things she didn't know, he remembered, so many things she'd never had a chance to learn. Mike smiled, a smile that said he would never, ever make her feel bad for not knowing something. "I don't either," he told her. "Do you want to figure it out?"_

_She smiled again, nervously, and she nodded. He took her hand and it fit perfectly in his. He led her into the crowd and stopped in the middle of the floor._

_"I think like this," he said, putting her hands on his shoulders. She let him do it and his heart swelled at the trust in her eyes. His hands went around her waist. "Yeah, like that."_

_Eleven smiled and this time it wasn’t nervous but happy. Her hands curled around his neck so easily, like they belonged there._

_They danced._

_There was only the music, and the feel of her slim waist under his hands, and her arms around his neck, and her smile and her enormous brown eyes. Then even the music faded and it was only her, the girl from the rain who owned his heart._

_Mike leaned in or maybe El pulled him in or maybe it was both. He kissed her and she kissed him. It was soft and it was lovely.It was his kiss and it was hers, forever._

_El looked into his eyes afterward. Her face was pure happiness. She smiled and leaned into him, touching her forehead to his. Mike held her and his heart filled with joy because this moment had happened, it was real, and no one could ever take it away from him._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl in his arms and this is what it said._

_You are my princess, my lady, my best friend, my love. You are the only one I want._

_You are the only one I will ever want._

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Project Docks**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

El stepped from the dock into the motorboat. The craft rocked gently.It was a small boat, fast, with an inboard motor. There was no cabin, just seats and a steering wheel and an instrument console. She'd driven boats like this before as part of her apprenticeship. It was quick and agile - perfect for facing the Kraken.

The Kraken. Even from this distance, El could hear the beast howling. Her eyes went to the sea cave across the harbor, where gunfire flashed and red light from the Gate spilled onto the waters.

Her friends were in there, risking their lives to close the Gate. Soon she would risk her life to lure the Kraken into position. Then Mike would risk his life to kill it.

_Mike_.

Her brave, brilliant, beautiful boy. She'd lost track of the ups and downs they’d had over the last four days. There had been so many misunderstandings and so many reconciliations, but through it all there had been one constant.She loved him and he loved her.

El let that play through her head again._He_ loved _her_.She still struggled to believe it.Mike Wheeler had chosen _her_ out of all the girls in the world.

It made her positively giddy, and that was wrong, because now was _not_ the time.She had a job to do.She had to focus.But her mind kept drifting back to him.

Mike was _so_ amazing. He was thoughtful and kind and patient.He was gentle, so gentle, especially with her.But he could be strong and commanding when he needed to be.Those times when Mike took charge, goodness, they made her feel all warm and tingly and—

_El, you have to stop!_ she told herself._Stop thinking about this!_

But it was hard to stop when the boy was so pretty it made her knees weak.And smart?Mike wasn’t just smart, he was _brilliant_.Hadn’t he come up with this outrageous plan to defeat the Kraken in just minutes?

Granted, she _hated_ Mike’s role in the plan.She hated it but she accepted it. She knew Mike wasn't chasing a blaze of glory this time.He was just being the hero, because he had to be.

El closed her eyes, her heart aching. As soon as this was over, she was going to make sure Mike never, ever had to be the hero again. They would close the Gate and kill the Kraken and... and _deal with_ Papa and that would be it.No more monsters, no more plans, no more heroics, just her loving Mike and Mike loving her.

Will and Jonathan stepped into the motorboat, jolting her out of her reverie.

"We searched the other boats," Will told her. “It was a pretty good haul.”He opened his bag and El could see it was full of flares.

"Do you think there’s enough?" she asked.

"I don't know," Will admitted. "I hope so.I guess it depends on how long we have to keep the Kraken occupied."

El bit her lip and nodded.

Her Supercomm crackled. The line suddenly filled with static and the roars of the Kraken and the banging of gunfire.El could barely make out Steve's voice over the din. She heard him say the words "Paladin" and "October" and "Kraken." She thought maybe Steve said "fucking" too, but she wasn't sure.

Mike's voice came over the line. "Red October, this is Paladin, I didn’t copy your last transmission. Can you repeat, over?"

This time when Steve spoke the signal was clearer. He sounded... excited. "Paladin, I repeat, this is Red October! We can’t get near the gate machine because there's a giant fucking Kraken in the way! Do you copy?"

"Red October, this is Paladin, I copy," Mike said. "Sorry you had to repeat that, Steve.It was hard to hear the first time with all the noise in the background."

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry Wheeler," Steve snapped. "How about I go ask Remo and the Russians and the _fucking Kraken_ to keep the noise down? You know, so you can hear better?"

El could hear the pout in Mike’s voice.“Geez, Steve, you don't have to be such a douchebag about it. I said I was sorry."

"Don’t be sorry!Just find us a way out of this mess!"

"Um... we’ll have to improvise."

"Thanks, Mike.”Steve’s voice dripped with sarcasm.“That’s really helpful.”

A new but oddly familiar voice broke through in a crackle of static."Who is this? What are you doing on this channel?"

"Oh, hi Lieutenant Remo," Mike answered. "This is Mike Wheeler."

"Wheeler? The kid with the spear?" The lieutenant sounded utterly bewildered.

Mike was clearly pleased to be remembered.“That's right, the kid with the spear."

Another voice came on the line and El's heart sank. It was her mother. "Mike, is that you?"

"Hi, Mrs. Byers. Yes, it's me."

"Where are you?Is anyone with you?" Joyce's tone was on the wrong side of shrill. El exchanged panicked looks with her brothers.

"Um, that’s not important right now, Mrs. Byers.I’ll explain later. Lieutenant Remo, my friends are in that cave trying to shut down the gate machine, but the Kraken’s in the way. Do you think your team can do anything?"

"Your friends?" Joyce gasped.

"They're in the cave?" Remo sputtered.

"Yes," Mike said. "They turned off the comms scrambler and now they're trying to close the Gate. We could really use your help."

"Mike, what friends?"Mrs. Byers' voice was climbing in pitch with every passing second.

A sigh came over the Supercomm. "Hi, Mrs. Byers.It’s me, Steve."

"Steve!" Joyce shrieked.

"Um, yeah. I've got Max, Lucas and Dustin with me. Also Dart."

"But not Will?Not El?"

There was a long pause.It was the closest thing to a guilty silence El had ever heard on a Supercomm. "No, not Will or El,” Steve said finally. “Not with me."

"Lieutenant Remo," Mike interrupted, "my friends can do this. We just need to get the Kraken away from the gate machine. Can you help?"

"Sorry, kid," Remo said. "We're pinned down at the cave entrance. I'm not sure what we can do against that monster anyway.We’ve been shooting at it but most of the bullets are hitting some kind of force shield.The ones that get through don't even slow it down.”

"That’s why we brought the Spear with us, sir.I think it might be the only thing that can kill it.”

“Wait a minute,” Remo said, “closing the Gate will kill it.Right?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.It’s a long story.We have to close the Gate to weaken the Kraken, but that won’t be enough.It will take the Spear to finish it.”

“Kid...”

“I’m telling the truth, Lieutenant!Please, we really need your help.Is there anything you can do to lure the Kraken away?”

There was a long pause.Remo sighed. "I wish I had better news for you, Mike.But our weapons are useless against that thing and we’ve got nothing to draw it off.I’m sorry, kid.”

There was silence on the line.

El stared at the Supercomm, thinking furiously.Mike’s plan and quite possibly the fate of the world hung in the balance.

She cranked the boat’s ignition and the motor roared to life.

"El, what are you doing?" asked Will.

"We're going to the cave," she said.

"We are?"

El keyed the Supercomm. "Mike, this is Seahorse. We're heading for the Gate.We’ll lure the Kraken away.”

Mike’s voice was thick with tension.“El, are you sure?"

"El?" Joyce gasped.

"Don't worry, Mike," El said. "It will be okay." She nodded at her brothers.They quickly released the lines tying the motorboat to the dock.El throttled up the engine.

"Just... just be careful, El."

Will grabbed the Supercomm. "Thanks Mike, _we_ will be."

Even through the static, Joyce's screech was deafening. "_Will_?Is that you? Where are you?"

"I'm, uh, on the boat, Mom," Will stammered. "I'm going to help El lure the Kraken away."

"You're going to _what_?" Joyce yelled.Her voice suddenly went flat. "Where’s your brother?”

Jonathan sighed and took the Supercomm. "Hi Mom.I'm on the boat too." He turned to Will and El and mouthed, _We are so screwed._

El spun the wheel, lining the motorboat up with the cave on the other side of the harbor. She increased speed.

The Supercomm filled with noise as Joyce, Jonathan and Mike all started talking at once.

Remo’s shout sounded over the line. "Clear the channel, people!This is _supposed_ to be a combat operation! One person talks at a time!"

There was a last high-pitched shriek from Joyce and then the line went quiet. Remo spoke and even through the Supercomm it was clear the man was gritting his teeth. "Good. Thank you.Now, Wheeler. Would you tell me, in simple words, what the hell you and your friends are doing here?"

Mike coughed nervously.“We're trying to save the world, sir.If you could help us, that would be pretty cool." 

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Dwayne Remo was a smart man and a good soldier. He was thoughtful, pragmatic and cool under fire. He'd spent years as an Army Ranger, then as a Delta Force operative. Now he was an officer on a black ops team so secret that it didn’t officially exist.

It was his job to handle unusual situations and challenging personalities. That being the case, he’d consider it a personal failure if he let these teenagers drive him crazy.

But honestly, _these teenagers were driving him crazy._

And the Wheeler kid, the dorky-looking one with the big nose and the big mouth and the big ideas about a magic spear... he was the worst one of all.

Dr. Owens' voice came over the comm. "I told you he's a smart kid, Lieutenant."

"That's right, sir,” Remo sighed.“That’s what you said.”

"I told you about Halloween '84 back in Hawkins, right? How Wheeler went off script and saved the day?"

"You told me," Remo said. He rubbed his forehead as gunfire clattered all around him. One of these days, he really was going to quit.He was going to give up all this special forces crap and buy that avocado farm he kept talking about.

One of these days.Just not today.Shit.

He toggled the comm. "All right Wheeler, I can’t do anything about the Kraken... but what else do you need?"

"My friend Dustin has to get to the gate machine," Mike said. "If El lures away the Kraken, anything you can do to draw off the Russians would be great."

"Roger that." Remo rubbed his forehead again, not even flinching as a grenade detonated just yards away.

What the hell. He was paid to improvise and it’s not like there were any better ideas. He spoke into the comm again. "Strike team, this is Remo. On my mark, execute attack pattern Omega Six.I repeat, Omega Six. Aponte, you're the hook. Copy."

Sergeant Aponte's voice came over the air. "Roger that, Lieutenant, I copy Omega Six. I am the hook."

Lineker tapped Remo on the shoulder. "You sure about this, sir?"

Remo sighed. "Yeah. Frontal assault. Congratulations, Lineker, we’re about to be a diversion." He switched back to the comm. "Sully, we're about to go Omega Six. We need you down here _right now._"

The radio crackled and Remo heard gunshots, strangled screams and the ear-splitting whine of what could only be a mini-gun. Then a voice cut through the noise. "We’re kind of busy here, Lieutenant! The Russians tried to ambush us but we’ve got them on the back foot now. Give us a few more minutes and we'll be on our way."

"Hurry," Remo said.

"Copy." There was another crackling of gunfire. When Sully spoke, Remo could hear a grin in the soldier's voice. "By the way Lieutenant, you know that soccer mom you made us bring along? She’s a total badass. If her cooking's as good as her shooting...”

"Roger that, Sully. About time there was some good news on this op."

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Lighthouse**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Mike waited.He paced from one end of the El Camino to the other. He listened to the voices on the Supercomm.He looked through his binoculars at the Project.He paced some more.

El was out there taking the motorboat across the harbor.Soon she would be in the sea cave with the Kraken and the Russians and the demogorgons and who knew what else.

The love of his life was going into danger and Mike was here by the lighthouse, waiting. There was nothing he could do but wait.

_This is what it’s like to be helpless_, he thought.

_Please God.Please.I can't lose her._

Unbidden, his thoughts went to the night four years ago when he found El in the rain. So many things had to happen for them both to be there, in that place, at that time.

Mike had set off for Mirkwood at the same time El fled Benny's restaurant. What if he’d gone later? What if he'd gone earlier? What if he hadn't gone at all?

Dustin kept urging him to turn around that night and go home. What if Mike had listened?

There were so many little links in the chain that connected him to El that night.If a single one had been missing, he never would have met her.He never would have met the love of his life.

Mike's throat tightened and his chest constricted and he could barely force the air into his lungs. _I found her,_ he reminded himself._I found her, I found her, I found her. This is real. Life really has been this good to me._

_I can’t lose her now.The universe can't possibly be that cruel._

Mike looked at the sky and reached out with his thoughts. He didn't know who he was speaking to, God or the universe or the winds of fate, but whoever it was, he implored them.

_Don't hurt her. Let her come back from this. If you have to take someone, take me. If it's a choice between her and me, take me._

His eyes roamed the sea and the sky. They traced over the El Camino and the Spear gleaming in the sun’s last light.

The stars were coming out.

There was nothing he could do but wait.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The cave mouth was coming at them fast, like a gaping maw pulsing with red light. Eleven pushed the boat's throttle to full and took them in. There was a moment of disorientation as the sky disappeared and the cave swallowed them, then the boat shot across the lagoon toward the Gate.

It was chaos. Gunfire crackled. Men and monsters battled across the cave against a hellish backdrop of flame. At the far end of the lagoon, the Kraken reveled in the slaughter.

"Demogorgon!" Will cried. "There in the water!"

Jonathan fired a blast with the shotgun, warning the creature away. Then the boat flashed past and left the thing behind.

El searched the shore, trying to catch sight of her friends. There was too much smoke and too much flame.She could only hope they were all right.

Then she spotted someone creeping through the machinery. He was moving slowly, trying not to be noticed. He was tall and slender.He had a full head of thick white hair.

It was Papa.

Icy needles prickled across El’s skin. Her heart stopped, her breathing stopped, everything stopped.

The last time she saw Papa alive was at Hawkins Middle School, the night she'd killed a demogorgon and saved Mike's life.Later, in Chicago, Kali had shown her Papa’s image. That image, just an illusion, left her a sobbing wreck.

She didn't know what she felt now.She was just numb.

Papa turned and he saw her.

He was far away and the motorboat was moving fast. It didn’t matter.Eleven was sure that Papa saw her and that he smiled.

Then he was gone.

"El, look out!" Jonathan shouted.

They were hurtling straight for the Kraken. El killed the throttle and spun the wheel hard to the left. The boat skidded toward the monster, momentum carrying it forward. The Kraken raised an enormous tentacle thick as a tree trunk.

The boat’s bow turned, kept turning.

The Kraken lashed out.

El pushed the throttle to full.The little speedboat skipped forward and the tentacle smashed the water a yard behind it. The fury of the blow raised a massive wave that pushed up the back of the boat and they were rising, rising...

El clutched the steering wheel in a death grip.Will and Jonathan grabbed the side rails and hung on for dear life.

For a moment the boat pitched nearly vertical, balancing on the point of the bow.El looked straight down into the lagoon and she couldn’t even find breath to scream.

Then the wave collapsed and the boat’s stern slammed back in the water.The propellers found purchase and the craft shot away to safety.

The Kraken howled at them.

Eleven turned the boat and brought it around for another pass.

"That was way too close!" Jonathan shouted. "Will, fire the flare!"

The Kraken opened its five-jawed mouth in a deafening scream as the boat raced toward it. Will raised the flare gun and pulled the trigger. A blazing orange light pulsed up toward the roof of the cave.

_Please let this work,_ El thought.

The Kraken's head jerked up. It watched the flare intently.

_Please, please, please..._

The creature lurched toward the burning light, lashed out with its gaping jaws and swallowed the flare whole.

"Another!" Jonathan yelled.

Will reloaded and fired a second flare, this time twenty yards in front of the monster. The Kraken surged through the lagoon toward it, bellowing. It closed the gap in seconds and gulped down the burning flare.

"It's working!" Jonathan shouted. "Will, do it again!"

Will quickly chambered another flare and fired it in front of the beast. The creature plunged across the lagoon, raging at the brilliant orange light.

El spun the boat back toward the cave mouth. Will kept shooting flares, spreading them into the air like a trail of glowing breadcrumbs. The Kraken followed, screaming its hatred at the lights.

Then they were out of the cave. El turned the boat toward the open ocean.In moments they shot past the breakwater and out of the harbor, the great beast crashing through the waves behind them.

The Supercomm crackled and El heard Steve's voice. "This is Red October. The way is clear. Thanks, Seahorse. Great driving, El."

There was another crackle, another voice. It was Mike. "Stay safe, El."

The dark sea stretched in front of her.El raced across it like she hoped to catch the horizon. 

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Dustin watched, open mouthed, as the Kraken stormed across the lagoon swallowing flares. It followed Seahorse out of the cave and then it was plunging through the harbor and out to sea.

The path to the gate machine was open.

"Holy shit!” Max gasped.“El is awesome even without her powers!"

“No kidding!” Lucas agreed.“And did you see Will with the flares and Jonathan with the shotgun?They were all awesome!”

“They were,” Steve said. He grabbed his gear."Now _we_ need to be awesome."

"Right," said Dustin. "The way is clear but it won't be for long. Let's go!"

The teens scrambled from cover and dashed across the cave to the gate machine, Dart loping behind them. The roar of explosions and the whine of bullets sounded all around. Dustin could barely believe it when they reached the big machine unscathed. Maybe whispering _Holy shit_ under your breath like a mantra really did keep you safe.

They crouched next to the machine, a hulking device full of churning cogs and whirling gears. At the far end, power rods spun like a demonic windmill, throwing crackling bolts of lightning into the Gate.

"Okay," Steve said to Dustin. "We're here. What do we do?"

Dustin scanned the machine. He'd seen one last year at Starcourt and this one looked similar. Hell, it looked identical.

"There," he said, pointing at an access panel. "We need to get that hatch open. It should lead to the primary engine and the main transaxle. If I can disable those, I think it will shut this thing down."

"Are you sure?" Max asked.

"Am I sure? This is a piece of Russian interdimensional technology that I've seen exactly _one_ time. I'm pretty much making this up as I go."

Dustin grabbed a screwdriver from his tool bag.In moments he'd freed the access panel. The thing was made of half inch steel, a yard on each side, and it took both him and Steve to lift it away. Behind it were the metal guts of the gate machine, a bewildering array of rods and shafts and gears.

"So how does it look?" Steve asked.

“Complicated,” Dustin said.He dug into his tool bag and got to work.

Remove this piece here. Unhook that section there. Disable that power coupling and then rewire this element to the secondary junction box...

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Steve asked.

Dustin wiped sweat from his brow. "I think so.But I need some time."

"How long?" asked Lucas.

"A few minutes."

Dustin focused, the sound of bullets and battle fading as his world narrowed to the machine in front of him.He worked fast, conscious of the seconds ticking away.El was out there and Mike was out there and they were depending on him.

He dimly heard shouting and the clatter of footsteps.

"Russians!" Max hissed.

That got his attention. Dustin looked up from the machine.Three soldiers were moving toward them, yelling and waving rifles. They were still some distance but closing fast.

_Shit_.

Lucas grabbed the heavy steel panel and tried to lever it off the floor. Steve grabbed the other side. Together they pulled it up and set it like a barricade between them and the soldiers.

"Max," Lucas said, "hold this in place. It will shield us from the bullets... I hope." Max nodded and crouched behind the panel, keeping it steady. Lucas turned to Dustin. "Where's your gun?That panel won't be much help if we don’t keep the Russians at a distance."

"In my backpack," Dustin said. He watched the soldiers come nearer.Lucas dug the .44 out of the pack and quickly checked the cylinder.

“Oh my God,” Lucas said, “you carry this thing loaded?”

“Shouldn’t I?” Dustin asked.“I put the safety on.”

Lucas shook his head.“I swear, dude.There are no words.”Then the dark-skinned boy stuck his head over the steel panel, drew a bead on the Russians, and opened fire.The men shrieked in surprise and dove for cover.

"You got any spare ammo?" Lucas asked.

"Side pocket,” said Dustin.

The curly-haired boy dug into the innards of the gate machine with his wrench and screwdriver as Lucas fired the .44.The big gun banged again and again, a steady drumbeat pounding in Dustin’s ear as he worked.Now and then there was a furious clanging as Russian bullets hammered the steel panel.

"I can’t hold them forever," Lucas muttered. "You better hurry."

“I’m working on it,” Dustin said.He dropped the screwdriver, grabbed a socket wrench.

_Shit, this was taking too long._

"Guys," Max gasped.“I think we’ve got more problems.”

Something in her tone told Dustin she wasn't talking about Russians.He stopped to look and his heart sank.

A demogorgon pulled itself from the lagoon and stalked across the cave toward them.

The thing looked familiar.It was the scars, Dustin realized. There were gnarled, puckered wounds in the creature's chest and head that could only be from a .44 magnum. It was the monster that attacked them at the Byers' house two nights ago.

The thing was closing on them. No.it was closing on _him_. Demogorgons didn't have eyes but Dustin could tell this one was looking right at him.

Great. Russians to the left and demogorgons to the right. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about.

“It’s coming this way!” Max hissed.

“It knows I’m trying to close the Gate,” Dustin said.“It’s coming for me.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Steve.The older boy grabbed his spiked bat and slung his satchel over his shoulder."Lucas, Max, you guys hold off the Russians.Dustin, keep working on the machine. I'll take care of this ugly bastard."

Dart growled and barked. Steve looked at the demodog, surprised.

"Sorry.I meant _we’ll_ take care of this ugly bastard. Come on, Dart. Let’s go kick this guy’s ass."

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Steve walked toward the demogorgon.He swallowed hard.His bravado in front of the kids had been just that - bravado.A brave face he put on to hide how absolutely fucking hopeless this was.

He and Dart had faced this big demogorgon before. They'd managed to beat it back at the Byers’ house... with the help of the entire Party plus Joyce and the Smith & Wesson. Now it was just the two of them and all Steve had was his bat.

It was fucking suicide.

It was also the only play. They had to give Dustin time to close the Gate.

In moments Steve was standing in front of the demogorgon.He couldn't help but marvel at the size of its claws, its endless rows of serrated teeth and its long limbs that could break a man in half. The creature had survived multiple shots from a .44.Thanks to the power of the Gate, the wounds looked like they'd healed months ago.

They were all quiet for a moment, Steve and Dart and the demogorgon, standing in a circle of burning machinery and regarding each other.They were like gladiators sizing up a foe before the combat.This little space by the gate machine was their arena.

It was Steve and Dart against a giant demogorgon in a duel to the death.

Steve smiled wryly.Him and Dart.

Weren't they a pair.

You had Steve Harrington, the King of Hawkins High.Top of the food chain back in high school, today a nobody.He worked minimum wage at the video store. His father despised him. His high school friends had abandoned him. He had no girlfriend, no prospects and no future.

Then there was Dart, a hideous, scaly, interdimensional monster that liked to eat cats.

On the surface the two of them had nothing in common, but dig deep and it was there.They were both outcasts.They were both lost.

They both loved Dustin Henderson.

And now some scarred-up nightmare from another universe meant to kill Dustin and that shit was just _not going to happen_.

"Come on, ugly," Steve said. "We whipped your ass before. You want to make it two for two?"

The big demogorgon roared.Dart roared back.Steve raised his bat and screamed.

The three gladiators charged into battle and it was like stepping into a whirlwind.

The demogorgon was so fast, so strong. This close to the Gate, it had more power than when they faced it at the Byers' house. Steve landed blow after blow but the monster barely flinched. The spikes on the bat left bloody punctures in the thing’s hide but they healed over in seconds.

There was a saving grace - Dart was strong too. The demodog drew power from the Gate and it turned him into a four-legged buzzsaw. Every time the demogorgon lunged at Steve, it gave Dart an opening to wreak havoc with fangs and claws.

Steve and the demodog battled side by side. They'd fought together before, more than once, and now they moved like their minds were linked. Dart went low, Steve went high. Dart circled right, Steve circled left. The demogorgon was strong and fast and filled with the power of the Gate, but Steve and Dart were a _team_.

Steve found he missed the Spear. He missed the way it guided him when he fought, the way his every movement flowed like he and the weapon were one. But he didn't need the Spear. He could do this. He was going to show this nightmare from another world what Steve Harrington was all about.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Remo leaned around the generator and fired a long burst from his rifle.His eyes searched the cave._There_.

He ducked back behind cover.

“How about that?” he said to Lineker.“The kids made it.They’re at the gate machine.They opened an access panel - I think they’re trying to sabotage it.”

Lineker poked his head around the generator and squeezed off a round, sending a Russian diving for cover.“No shit?Maybe there’s a light at the end of this fucking tunnel.”

“Maybe.We’ve drawn most of the enemy away.A few slipped the net but the kids are holding them off.”

Both men flinched as a hail of bullets whined and clanged against the generator housing.

“Still plenty of Russians out there,” Lineker muttered.“We sure could use some reinforcements.”

“Roger that,” Remo said.He opened a channel on his radio.“Sully, we’re hanging by a thread down here.We need back-up _urgently_.What’s your status?”

“The last Russian is down!” Sully shouted. “We're clear, Lieutenant. On our way.”

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Dustin worked feverishly.Wrench here.Screwdriver there.Then the wire cutters.Back to the wrench.

Bullets sang overhead and rattled against the steel access panel.Lucas kept up a steady fire with the Smith & Wesson, keeping the enemy soldiers back.Now and then he’d duck down for a reload and then pop back up again.Max kept the access panel propped with one hand, giving Dustin tools from the bag with the other.

“The Russians keep getting closer,” Lucas hissed.“And I'm running out of ammo.Whatever you’re doing, Dustin, you better do it fast.”

“Almost there,” Dustin said.

There was one last gear. Once that was gone, a chain reaction would follow to _this_ gear and then _that_ gear, and then the main shaft would torque out of control, destroying the gate machine. He just had to get this one last piece...

It was stuck.

The same pressures that would torque the main shaft were bearing down on the gear, wedging it in place.

Lucas fired again, ducked down, reloaded. He shook his head."That’s it. My last reload. We’ve got six shots left, dude."

Max looked deathly pale.

Dustin cursed and banged the gear with his wrench. No luck. It wouldn't move.

He chewed his lip, thinking.“Give me the gun.”

Lucas looked at him, bewildered.“What?”

“Give me the gun.”

“Why?”

Dustin took a deep breath.“I'm improvising.”

Lucas stared at his friend for a moment, then gave a wry smile.“What the hell.If we’re gonna go down, we might as well go down in flames.”

Lucas fired off a shot, keeping the Russians back, then handed over the gun. Dustin pointed it at the stubborn gear.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Max.

“No,” Dustin admitted.He drew back the hammer. “But at this range at least I won’t miss.”

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Things were grim. The demogorgon was too strong, too fast, too powerful. This fight could only end one way and Steve knew it.

Who had he been kidding? He wasn't a warrior. He wasn't a hero. He was the night clerk at the Family Video store. He was the guy who peaked in high school and his life had been downhill ever since.Now it was going to end here in a seaside cave in fucking _Maine_.

That might not be such an awful thing.What kind of life did Steve have to look forward to anyway?How many more days could he ring up a customer for minimum wage?How many more nights could he eat dinner alone in front of the TV?

The demogorgon snapped at his face with its flower-petal jaws.Steve jerked to the side just in time and the jaws closed on empty air.

Enough of this self-pity bullshit.Steve Harrington might be a loser but he wasn’t a quitter.He had to keep fighting.He had to give Henderson time to close the Gate.

Steve barely ducked one of the demogorgon’s big claws, feeling a tug as it scissored off a lock of his hair.The other claw was coming low and he leapt over it with inches to spare.

Each time the claws were getting closer and closer.Soon, one of them would connect - it wasn’t a matter of _if_ but _when_.Steve was just too tired and the demogorgon was just too fast.

If he was going to take this thing down, he’d have to do it now.

Desperation gave him strength.He spun, lashed out with a one-armed backhand that caught the creature in the head.It grunted, more surprised than hurt, but Steve took advantage and slammed the bat into its leg.The monster snarled, staggered, and Dart wrapped his jaws around its arm.

The creature screamed.It slammed its fist into Dart, knocking the demodog sprawling - but the force of the swing made it stumble.The demogorgon lurched off balance, teetering, about to fall.

That was it.That was the opening.Steve went for the overhead smash.

The demogorgon suddenly straightened and the bat whistled harmlessly past.It had been a feint, a trick.A thought flashed through Steve’s mind - _how could you fall for that, dingus?_ \- and then the monster’s great fist wrapped around his throat.

Steve let out a choking gurgle as the thing lifted him. The bat clattered from his hand and he latched onto the creature’s arm, trying to wrestle free.It was like trying to bend steel.

The monster’s jaws opened and it drew him in.Steve grabbed his satchel, the bag bulging with the _Collected Works of William Shakespeare_.He shoved it into the creature's mouth. The demogorgon's jaws churned, ripping through the satchel, tearing at the paper.Steve struggled in the beast’s grip, knowing he only had seconds before the book was destroyed.The next thing the demogorgon would chew to bits was Steve’s arm.

His perception shrank down to row after row of serrated teeth, to a book filled with old plays and poetry, and to a roaring in his ears.He heard the distinctive bang of the Smith & Wesson, but it seemed so insignificant as the demogorgon choked the life out of him.

Then there was a new sound.The screech of metal, the grinding of gears. There was a crack that echoed through the cavern.

From the corner of his eye, Steve could see the gate machine’s mechanism spinning wildly. The main shaft bent upward, away from the Gate, and arcs of lightning ripped molten scores in the side of the cave and then the roof. Explosions ripped through the machine's guts.

Steve dimly heard Max’s voice.“That did it!Now run! It's going to blow!”

As the scarred monster choked him, Steve could see the Gate was closing. No longer fed by the power of the machine, it was sealing itself shut. The sides knit together.As Steve watched, the great pulsing tear in space faded to a slim red line.

They'd done it.

Red October had closed the Gate.

It was too late for Steve, but at least he’d go to the grave knowing he got the job done.

There was another sound then, another voice.It was Henderson.“Steve!” the stocky boy yelled.“Catch!”

He tossed something into the air.

The gun.

Time seemed to slow. Steve watched the gun arc through the air against the backdrop of the shuttered Gate, the explosions from the machine, the fires that blazed through the cave.

There was no way he could catch it. He was being choked, Dustin’s throw was all wrong, the distance was too far. Steve stretched for it anyway.He jammed his foot into the demogorgon’s chest, stuck out his free hand, and arched his back.But there was no way.Even a night clerk at the Family Video store knew there was just no way...

The Smith & Wesson slapped into his palm.

He did it. He caught it.

He caught the gun.

_Professional Monster Hunter, baby._

Steve looked into the jaws of the demogorgon and there was nothing left of the _Collected Works of William Shakespeare_ but a few dozen pages and the cover. In two seconds the monster would be chewing his arm off. Steve slid his finger over the trigger of the .44.

"You know," he told the demogorgon, "I'm not good at much."

He pushed the barrel of the gun against the creature's head.

"But I'm good at this."

The gun roared and the monster dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. It twitched on the floor, limbs jerking wildly.Steve shot the thing, again and again and again, until the gun clicked empty.

The demogorgon lay still.

Steve stood over it, rubbing his aching throat.“Come on.Let’s see you get up from that one.”

The thing’s body started to flake away into ash and Steve knew it was dead.

He felt Dart nudge his side.The demodog barked and wagged his tail.

Another explosion ripped through the gate machine.Steve heard someone shouting.It was Dustin and Lucas and Max.

"Steve!” they yelled, waving their arms frantically.“Come on!”

More explosions surged through the machinery.Steve flinched as the way back to the young teens was suddenly blocked by a searing wall of flame.

He’d have to find another way to safety.

“Go!” he shouted.“I’ll catch up!I’ll be right behind you.”

The path along the lagoon looked clear.Steve snatched his bat from the floor. “Come on,” he said to Dart.“This way!”

As the two of them raced through the cave, Steve keyed the Supercomm. “Paladin, Seahorse, this is Red October!The Gate is closed, I repeat, the Gate is closed! El, bring the Kraken back to the harbor!Mike, get ready to start your run!”

"Copy, Red October," said Mike. “Great job, Steve! Great job!"

Steve allowed himself a smile. _Great job. Fuckin’ A right._

Then he stopped, his heart sinking. Dart pulled up beside him, snarling.

There were demogorgons in the path. Four of them.

Steve looked back. Explosions and flame blocked the way he’d come. There was no way to go but forward.

He sighed.He should have known it was too good to be true.He spit on the floor, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath."It’s four on two, Dart. I guess they realized they can't beat us in a fair fight.”

Dart looked back the way they’d come.Then he looked at Steve.Then he turned to the demogorgons and reared up on his hind legs and screamed his defiance.

Steve couldn’t help smiling.“You tell them, buddy.You fucking tell them.”

The demogorgons moved in, jaws wide, claws gleaming.

_At least I got one win_, Steve told the universe. _You owed me that much._

He spun the bat in his hands. He was Steve Harrington. He was going down swinging.

* * *

_There was the sky.It glittered with the first stars of evening.The moon rose full and bright and the last light of the sun played on the horizon.There were clouds and a deep blue that stretched into infinity and there was memory._

_It should have been impossible, but Billy burst the door of the sauna, breaking the chain and tearing through pipes and brick.The young man stood panting, his thickly muscled chest heaving.Black veins like spiderwebs marbled his skin.He was... monstrous._

_He looked at Mike and Mike felt fear._

_Eleven fought.She pinned Billy against the wall, strangling him.Then Billy - the thing inside Billy - fought back.He was strong.He broke Eleven’s hold and he grabbed her by the neck and he lifted her in the air.He strangled her._

_Mike watched, terrified._

_Eleven was always Mike’s protector, his savior.There was nothing she couldn’t do.But she was dying.The girl from the rain was dying._

_Never._

_Mike grabbed the broken pipe as his friends stood paralyzed.He brought the pipe down on Billy’s back, screaming._

_The thing that was Billy tumbled to the floor and El was safe.Now Mike was going to beat this awful creature until there was nothing left but a bloody smear, he would beat Billy and he wouldn’t stop and he would never, ever let anyone hurt El again—_

_Billy caught the pipe and ripped it from Mike’s hands.He backed Mike into the wall and Mike realized he was going to die._

_It was worth it.He was glad he’d done it.If he had a hundred lives, he’d give up every one of them for her._

_Then Eleven saved him again._

_When it was over, she collapsed in his arms, sobbing.She reached for him, in this moment of anguish needing to touch him and know he was there.He held her tight._

_They’d been fighting, Mike and the girl from the rain, over some stupid thing that had seemed so important.It wasn’t.When things were stripped bare, when Mike had almost died and El had almost died, when she was crying in his arms and he was whispering words of comfort in her ear, the only important thing was that they were together._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl who almost died and this is what it said._

_Whatever you may face, monsters or tears or heartache or loss, I will be with you._

_I will always be with you._


	29. The Paladin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and staying sane in this crazy new world we live in.
> 
> Chapters 29, 30 and 31 are the climax of When He Was Special. They are mostly written, barring a bit of editing. I’m planning to post chapter 30 in a few days and chapter 31 a few days after that. I hope you like them.
> 
> I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who is reading along. I am truly grateful that you take some time out of your busy day to spend it on this story.

_There was the sea below. The waves rolled and churned out beyond the breakwater. In the harbor, boats bobbed beside the dock, looking like toys in a bathtub from the top of the cliffs.The moon reflected in the water.There was the wind and the waves and the far horizon and there was memory._

_Mike remembered the day El moved away._

_It was the day she told him she loved him._

_They were at the Byers’ house. Mike helped El get her teddy bear from the closet.They talked for a while, awkwardly, not saying what they wanted to say.Then El asked him about the day, months before, at her father’s cabin. She asked him about the things he’d said to his friends while she was searching the Void._

_Mike felt his heart sink to somewhere around his feet._

_“You talked about your feelings,” El said._

_Mike hadn’t realized the cabin’s walls were so thin._

_He didn’t know what to say.He babbled nonsense, dying inside.He was terrified to admit to this amazing girl that he loved her. He knew that someone so wonderful, so perfect, couldn't possibly love him back._

_But El had heard his shouted confession of love in the cabin, and she knew how he felt, and now she would tell him that she didn’t feel the same.She would be gentle - she was always gentle - but she would tell him it was over._

_Mike didn't want it to be over.Not yet.Not ever._

_But instead El touched his cheek. She told him she loved him too. And she kissed him._

_He watched her walk away and he couldn’t even speak._

_El loved him too._

_But she was leaving. Her mother was taking her away.Mike helped El pack the moving truck and every box was like a brick walling up his heart._

_It seemed he was always watching her go. As she climbed into the truck, her cheeks stained with tears, Mike waved to her. She cried harder.She waved back.The truck drove away._

_Something inside his soul spoke to the girl who was leaving and this is what it said._

_The world will try to separate us. The winds of fate will try to pull us apart, but I won't let you go._

_I will never let you go. _

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**July 4, 1986**

The demogorgons were big. They weren’t as big as the scarred one Steve had just killed, but they were big enough. There were four of them and even with the Gate closed they’d be plenty tough.

Steve wasn’t getting out of this one.

He looked over at Dart.The demodog snarled and snapped as the monsters approached.He wasn’t backing down.He was a good partner.

Steve couldn’t hold back a wry smile.He’d never expected his life to end this way, fighting monsters in a seaside cave with another monster battling at his side.Life could be strange, he supposed, and maybe it was fair that death could be strange too.

He’d had a good run.Steve’s life was in shambles, but he could go out knowing he’d done his best.He’d given Dustin time to close the Gate.He’d gone toe to toe with a demogorgon and beaten it.Steve Harrington might not have had the best life, but in his final moments he was going out a winner.

The monsters moved closer.They were taking their time, knowing Steve and Dart had nowhere to run.Flames blocked any retreat.There was the lagoon, and Steve briefly considered diving into it, but he knew how good the creatures were in the water.He’d die faster there than on land.

He watched his death approach.The demogorgons were hideous and there was something disturbing about the way they moved.They had the strangest arms and legs.The limbs were very long and the joints bent in unsettling ways.They just weren’t _right_.

The monsters opened their flower petal jaws.Their long, gleaming claws slid free.

That wasn’t right either.

Steve tightened his grip on the bat.There had to be a way out of this.It didn’t seem fair that he had done so much, come so far, only to have it end now.

“Dart,” he said, “now would be a great time for you to talk to your people and get them to let us go.”

Dart regarded Steve for a moment.Then he reared up on his hind legs, spread his front claws wide, and screamed at the demogorgons.The big monsters howled back, unfurling their faces to show all their serrated teeth.

Steve rolled his eyes.“Or, you know, you could tell them to fuck off instead.Whatever works for you, buddy.”

The monsters were just a few yards away.Steve eased into his batter’s stance.

_Go down swinging, Harrington_, he told himself._Go down swinging._

“Hey!” called a voice.“You with the bat!”

A soldier stepped out of the darkness behind the demogorgons.Steve recognized the black fatigues of Remo’s unit.The soldier wore a helmet with a dark, full-face visor and carried an enormous gun with six rotary barrels.

_That’s a mini-gun_, Steve realized._Like Jesse Ventura used in Predator._

The soldier pointed the gun at the demogorgons and flicked off the safety catch.The featureless visor turned to Steve.“You might want to get down.”

“Holy shit,” Steve gasped.He lunged for Dart and tackled the surprised demodog to the ground.The demogorgons turned to face the soldier, snarling.

The mini-gun opened up and the only word for what happened next was _bloodbath_.

Steve tried to make himself one with the floor as a rain of lead ripped the demogorgons apart.He hugged Dart against him, keeping the creature down as hell blazed over their heads.

The mini-gun’s high speed whine finally stopped.Steve cautiously raised his head and gaped when he saw the blood and gore splattered across the path.He could barely recognize the demogorgons.There was a claw here, an oddly-jointed arm there, a couple of jaws sticking out of the muck.There was nothing else but a messy pulp that started to flake away into ash.

“Holy shit,” he gasped.“Holy shit!”

“Look out, there’s one left!” the soldier said, pointing the mini-gun at Dart.

“No!” Steve yelled, holding up a warding hand.“No no!He’s with us!”

The soldier hesitated.“You sure?”

“I swear!He’s on our side!He’s one of the good guys.”

The faceless visor regarded him for a moment.Steve could see his reflection in it.

“Okay,” the soldier said at last.“But you and your scaly friend better get out of here before more of those things show up.The entrance is back that way.We’ve cleared the zone to this point so you shouldn’t have any more trouble on the way out.”

“Right,” Steve said.“Back that way.No trouble.Got it.”

“Not that trouble seems to bother you.”Steve thought he heard a hint of amusement in the soldier’s voice.“Were you really going to fight four of those things with just that bat?That’s pretty badass.”

Steve smiled sheepishly.“Pretty stupid is more like it... but I guess no one’s ever accused me of being a rocket scientist.”He paused.“I actually did take one of them out, back there by the gate machine.But I had a gun for that one.”

“That was you?Some of the guys saw that fight, they were talking about it on the comm.”

“That was me,” Steve admitted.He jabbed a thumb at Dart.“Us.”

The soldier slapped him on the shoulder.“Well, good job.But look, you should get going.Let me and the rest of the squad take it from here.”

“That sounds like a really good idea,” Steve said.He turned to go but then paused to read the name stenciled on the soldier’s fatigues.“And by the way... thanks, Sully.You’ve got great timing.”

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - Off the Coast**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The Kraken had followed El’s little craft far out to sea. The creature roared and thrashed in the motorboat's wake, lunging at the flares that Will fired into the night. It swallowed the burning lights, one after another, but there was always a new orange lure for it to chase.

Then the Gate closed.

The Mind Flayer's consciousness vanished and all that was left in the Kraken’s mind was rage.Its movements turned wild and erratic. Its limbs flailed as it plunged through the waves, riding new animal reserves of strength and speed. Will shot the flares faster, keeping the beast occupied.Jonathan watched the tentacles, ready to blast away with the shotgun if they got too close.

Steve’s voice came over the Supercomm."El, bring the Kraken back to the harbor!Mike, get ready to start your run!"

This was the moment they’d been waiting for.The Gate was closed and now they could kill the Kraken and end this nightmare for good.El turned the boat in a long curving arc back toward the shore.

She was afraid.

Not really for herself. She feared the Kraken, of course. One blow of its tentacles would destroy the boat and send her and her brothers to the bottom of the sea. But after all she’d been through, El was used to risking her life.Danger was familiar, like a well-worn coat. That wasn’t what sent needles of fright pricking along her spine.

She was afraid for Mike.Her beautiful boy.

El had suffered twelve years of pain and loneliness and then Mike found her one night in the rain. He took her in, cared for her, loved her.He made her life perfect and _he_ was perfect and the thought of him dying and _ceasing to be_ terrified her.

_It will be okay_, she told herself. _Mike is brilliant. His plan will work._

_He’ll come back to me._

The docks came into view, sheltering under the looming cliffs and lit up by flame. El took the motorboat past the breakwater and into the harbor, the Kraken raging close behind.

"How are we doing?" Jonathan yelled.

"Not so good," Will said, a hint of panic his voice. "We’re really low on flares! Taking that monster out to sea wasn't part of the plan!"

El raced the boat across the harbor toward the eastern cliffs. The Kraken followed, leaving crashing waves and foaming spray in its wake.As they entered the target zone, Will fired a spread of flares directly overhead and the creature stopped, bellowing at the lights.It was right next to the cliffs - a perfect target.

Now they just had to hold in place, distract the Kraken with flares, and not get smashed to pieces.If El wasn’t so scared for Mike, she might have found it all a little worrying.

Jonathan grabbed the Supercomm. "Paladin, this is Seahorse, we are in position! Start your run! Go, Mike, go!"

There was a crackle of static and Mike's voice came over the line. "Copy, Seahorse. Starting my run. Paladin over and out."

El's stomach twisted in knots.This was it.There was no turning back.

_Please. I can't lose him._

Will chambered another flare and fired it skyward. The Kraken thrashed in the water beside the cliffs, screaming at the pulsing light. It lashed out with jaws that could swallow a truck and the flare disappeared.

Will quickly fired another. "We've only got a few left," he said.“Mike better hurry."

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Lighthouse**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Mike could see the Kraken even from a mile away. It was so big it rose higher than the cliff tops. Will's flares lit the beast up in orange and cast black shadows across its jagged form. The monster snapped and howled at the lights in mindless fury.

It was right in the target zone.

Mike’s eyes flicked to the El Camino. The car was like a beast itself, hulking and muscular with big chrome teeth. The silver tip of the Spear jutted forward over the hood, gleaming in the light of the distant flares.

Mike was the Paladin. He had a lance and a steel horse.

It was time to go dragon slaying.

He slid into the driver's seat - easy to do with the door missing.The Supercomm crackled in his hand.

"Paladin, this is Seahorse, we are in position! Start your run! Go, Mike, go!”

"Copy, Seahorse," Mike said. "Starting my run. Paladin over and out." He turned the key in the ignition and the car’s big engine roared like a lion on the hunt.

It was time. The butterflies in Mike’s stomach did swan dives and barrel rolls. He closed his eyes, collecting himself. Then he took a deep breath, reached for the gear shift... and paused.

There was a cassette sticking out of the car's tape deck. He pulled it out, checked the title.

It was the Scorpions._Rock You Like A Hurricane._

Mike pushed the tape into the deck and turned the volume all the way up.

_If you're going to do this_, he thought, _you might as well do it like a boss._

The iconic power chords pounded in his ears. He stepped on the gas and launched the El Camino at the Kraken.

One mile to go. About eighteen hundred yards. Ninety seconds.

The big car tore down the coastline. A quarter mile flashed by in an instant and Mike checked the speedometer.Thirty miles an hour. He eased up on the gas, holding speed.

Even through his nerves, Mike felt a little surge of pride.It was all coming together.His plan was going to work.

Once the car was aimed at the Kraken, it would take him just a moment to hook the bungee cords in place.The concrete block was on the floor next to his feet, ready to be dropped on the accelerator. The only thing Mike had to do was close the distance, make sure the El Camino was on target and then...

...leap from a speeding car.

He looked at the ground flashing past and his heart curled into a little ball. Holy shit. The ground was a _blur_.It was unforgiving stone and even at thirty miles an hour it was going by so much faster than he’d expected. He was supposed to jump out of a goddamn car onto _that_? With nothing but a fucking _jacket_ to cushion his landing?

He hurtled toward the cliff and the Kraken.

This was starting to seem like a bad idea.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Max couldn't believe it. Wheeler's stupid plan was working.

Red October had closed the Gate.Remo's team were taking the fight to the Upside Down.The Russians were giving up.Sure, there were still fires and gunshots and explosions going off all around the cave... but it felt like they were actually going to pull this off.

All thanks to Max and Red October and Mike fucking Wheeler.

She shook her head in amazement.Maybe she’d been wrong about Wheeler.Maybe that scrawny dork was good enough for Eleven after all.

An explosion erupted just yards away and Max flinched.She ducked behind a bank of computers and Lucas and Dustin crouched next to her.She could see the tunnel to the docks further ahead, across a long stretch of open ground.

"Almost there," Max said, "we just have to cross that open space."

Dustin tugged nervously at his cap. "In the movies, this is where one of the heroes would be ironically killed by a stray bullet.You know, just yards from safety."

Lucas stared at the stocky boy, horrified. "Why would you say that?”

Dustin shrugged, surprised.“Because it’s true.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t say it!”

"Maybe we should just wait here for Remo's team?" Max cut in.

"Maybe," Lucas said, still glaring at Dustin. Then he looked around the cave and suddenly stiffened.

"What is it?" Dustin asked.

Lucas pointed. "Isn't that... Dr. Brenner?"

A tall, slender, white-haired man was creeping through the burning machinery towards a tunnel on the far side of the cave.

"That's Brenner?" Max asked. She'd heard stories about the man, but he’d disappeared long before she moved to Hawkins. The Party had told her about him in hushed tones, when El wasn’t around.He was a scientist of some kind.He’d taken El from her family when she was just a baby.Then he held her prisoner in a secret government lab and abused her mercilessly for years.

Max didn’t know much about the man but she knew enough to hate him.

"Yes!" Dustin gasped. "That’s him!It’s Brenner!”

“He’s trying to get away,” Lucas said.“The fucking vampire!"

Max stared at Brenner and hot rage burned in her veins.She knew a thing or two about child abusers.

“He’s not getting away,” she said.“Not if I can help it.”Her skateboard was lashed to the top of her backpack; she pulled it free and dropped it to the ground.

"Max, what are you doing?" Lucas gasped, but she was already on the board and kicking off.

She shot across the cave.Lucas and Dustin shouted behind her, but in a moment their voices faded into the din of gunfire and explosions. Max only had eyes for Brenner. His scarecrow form scuttled across the cavern.He moved quickly but on her skateboard Max was faster.

She closed the gap. Brenner didn't even know she was coming.

She saw the move in an instant. Years of practice tricking off every possible surface made it easy. She’d use that slanted part of the floor to ollie up and get airborne. Then board slide on the edge of that table. Then plant her skateboard right in that son of a bitch's back.

Max kicked a few times, building up speed, and the doubts started whispering in the back of her mind.

She’d screwed up a rail slide two days ago.It had almost gotten her killed, and Wheeler too.What if she screwed up again?

Why would she take a risk like this?Would it really be so bad if Brenner got away?

She stomped viciously on the doubts. She was Max Mayfield. She was a goddamn daredevil.

She launched into the trick. The ollie was perfect and she caught so much air.The board slide was textbook.And then the dismount...

Her skateboard slammed into Brenner's back with all her weight behind it.He went down hard.

As Brenner rolled on the ground, groaning, Max straddled his chest and grabbed him by the shirt.

"Hi!" she said. "I'm a friend of Eleven's. She asked me to give you this."

She punched Brenner in the face and felt the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking.

The white-haired man let out a gurgle of pain. Blood streamed from his nose. Max punched him again. Then again.

Brenner twisted under her, lashed out with one long arm, and clipped the side of her head. He was strong despite his age and the blow sent Max sprawling. Brenner kicked, still lying on the floor, and caught her on the cheek.An explosion of stars filled her eyes. She shook her head, trying to clear her vision, more angry than hurt.

"Oh, it's on, you fucking snake!" she hissed. She scrambled towards him, fists raised, and then froze as Brenner pulled a pistol from his jacket. He pointed it right at her.

For a bleeding man lying on the floor, his hand was very steady.

Everything seemed to slow.Max dimly heard shouting, the sounds of someone running.It couldn’t be Lucas and Dustin.She’d left them too far behind.It didn’t matter anyway.All that mattered was the gun.

"You are a very annoying child," Brenner said coldly.

Max saw motion from the corner of her eye.Brenner’s finger tightened on the trigger.

Joyce Byers kicked him in the face and the gun clattered to the floor.

Time returned to normal and Max blinked in surprise.

Brenner moaned, clutching his twice-broken nose.Sam Owens crouched beside him and picked up the gun."You know, Martin, you seem to have this thing about hurting young girls. You should get that checked out. It can't be healthy."

Max stared at Joyce and Sam, bewildered. "Where did you guys come from?"

"We're the cavalry," Dr. Owens grinned. "And I'd say we got here just in time."

Lucas ran up then with Dustin following close behind. The dark-skinned boy dropped to his knees and wrapped Max in a hug.

"Max, are you okay?” he gasped.He awkwardly patted at her bruised cheek. "Is anything broken? Did Brenner hurt you?"

Max was speechless for a moment, touched by the worry on his face. Then she smiled. "I'm fine, stalker."

Then Dustin started jabbering about how awesome she was, and Joyce knelt beside her and hugged her and Lucas both.Dr. Owens smiled at her as he pulled Brenner's arms behind his back and handcuffed him.

"Nice job, kid," Owens said.

Max's eyes went from Owens to Joyce to Dustin and finally to Lucas.

_Why am I always so surprised that these people care about me?_ she asked herself. _I've known them for three years. I should really stop being surprised._

Max hugged Lucas tightly.She felt Joyce’s hand stroking her hair and she heard Dustin’s voice babbling happily in her ear.

_Okay_, she thought._Maybe this isn’t such a bad vacation after all._

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Harbor**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The Kraken thrashed, churning the water under the cliffs into a froth. El spun the wheel hard and the little motorboat skipped past the beast, bouncing on the waves.

It was taking every ounce of El’s skill to avoid the spiny legs and jagged claws that flashed all around them.The seconds were ticking away.The boat would be smashed into kindling if they stayed here much longer.

Will pointed the flare gun at the sky. "I’m almost out!" he shouted. "We're cutting it really close!"

The flare shot into the night.The Kraken screamed, snapping its monstrous jaws and chasing the orange light as it flew toward the stars.

Will reloaded, aimed again, pulled the trigger...

The sky exploded in cascading showers of red and gold and silver. There was another explosion, a glorious starburst of green and pink.

Fireworks. Bursting in the air above Bath to celebrate the Fourth of July.

"Oh shit," Will breathed.

The Kraken had been angry before. Now it went berserk. Its howl was deafening and it glared at the fireworks with hate-filled eyes. Then the creature lurched along the cliffs toward them, chasing this new prey.

It was leaving the target zone.

"Get it back!" Jonathan shouted. "Fire, fire!"

Will pumped a flare into the sky, reloaded, and sent the next one straight at the monster's head. The Kraken didn’t even notice. It could only see the Fourth of July spectacle bursting far inland.

"It keeps moving!" Will gasped.

El closed her eyes and her heart filled with dread.

"Mike," she whispered.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Cliffs**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The car shot past the halfway point and Mike took a deep breath. It was time. The Kraken was in position next to the cliffs. The El Camino was dead on target. There was nothing left to do but lash the wheel in place, drop the concrete block on the gas pedal, and jump for it.

_Jump for it._Man, this was such a bad idea—

Mike blinked in surprise as fireworks erupted in the evening sky. They were beautiful, a kaleidoscope of colors that filled the night with streamers and sparklers and shooting stars. They were bigger and grander than anything he'd ever seen in Hawkins.

Then he heard the Kraken scream in rage.It lumbered along the cliffs toward the lights.It was ignoring the flares and going after the fireworks and _leaving the target zone._

“Oh shit,” Mike whispered.

It was the one thing he’d forgotten to plan for.Fireworks.

On the Fourth of fucking July.

He turned the steering wheel, fighting down a surge of panic.In a moment the car was aimed at the Kraken again.

_All good_, Mike thought._Just a little course correction.Nothing to worry about._

More fireworks erupted in the distance.The Kraken moved again.

“Goddammit,” Mike hissed.He turned the wheel, keeping the car on target.

The cliff edge was getting closer.He should have jumped by now.He took a quick glance at the speedometer.Still thirty miles an hour.He had to get the speed up if the Spear was going to pierce the creature’s hide.

The Kraken kept going.It was still beside the cliffs... but it wouldn’t stop moving.

Mike’s heart sank._It’s going to chase those fireworks all the way to Bath._

He turned the steering wheel again and pressed down on the accelerator.He watched the needle climb to forty miles an hour. Forty-five.

The Supercomm crackled. It was Will. Mike could hear tears in the small boy's voice. "Mike, the Kraken keeps moving! I tried to lure it back with the flares but it just ignores them! All it sees are the fireworks!"

Mike keyed the talk button. "I know Will. I see it. You know how that thing feels about fireworks. It's going to keep chasing them.It’s not going to stop."

“But we can’t kill it if it keeps moving,” Will sobbed.“Mike, what are we going to do?”

The words hung in the air and Mike closed his eyes.

That was the question, wasn’t it?

_Mike, what are we going to do?_

For a moment, everything seemed to go quiet.He didn’t hear the roar of the engine, the bursting fireworks, the pounding beat of _Rock You Like A Hurricane_.He was alone with his thoughts, weighing the options, analyzing the scenarios, checking all the angles.

He saw the answer.

“Mike?” Will asked and the sound rushed back in and Mike opened his eyes.

"There’s only one play, Will,” he said.“I'll have to drive the car all the way in."

There was a surge of static and a new voice came on the line. It was El."Mike!" she shouted. "Mike, no!"

His throat tightened. He loved her so much. "I'm sorry, El."

Even as he spoke, he pushed down on the gas. Fifty miles an hour.Fifty-five.

"Mike, please!" she sobbed. "Stop the car! We'll figure out another way!"

The Kraken was growing bigger over the hood of the El Camino, the gleaming silver tip of the Spear pointing at its heart.

"El," Mike said gently, an odd state of calm falling across him. "There’s no other way. If we don't kill the Kraken now, it will follow those fireworks to Bath and thousands of people will die. Thousands.”

Her sobbing was almost enough to make him step on the brake, stop the car, but he knew his words were true. "I'm sorry, El. I have to do this. It's the only way."

"Mike," she whimpered.

"I'm sorry, El," he said. "I love you."

"Mike!" she screamed and the sound was so raw, so anguished, that his heart shattered.

But he couldn't stop.

"I love you," he whispered.

He turned off the Supercomm.

A quarter mile to go.

It’s not such a big deal, Mike told himself. Just a small change in plan.He'd drive the El Camino all the way in, keeping it aimed at the Kraken.When the car went over the cliff, he’d leap clear and plunge into the sea.

From fifty feet up.At seventy miles an hour.

He shrugged off the heavy jacket.It would just weigh him down.

The car hurtled down the rocky shore.The cliff was approaching so fast and the Kraken was so big.Mike made a final turn of the steering wheel. There was no way he’d miss now.

One hundred yards to go.

The roar of the motor and the glare of the headlights caught the Kraken's attention. The monster turned away from the fireworks and looked towards the cliff. Its five-jawed mouth opened in a deafening scream.

The El Camino headed straight for it.

Mike saw the ground disappear ahead of him.He tensed, ready to leap.

_I love you, El.I love you so much._

The car went over the edge.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Harbor**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

El wanted to scream.She wanted to scream at the people of Bath, at Papa, Dr. Owens, Remo, all of them.She wanted to scream because it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that Mike had to save everyone.It wasn’t fair that he had to be the Paladin one more time.

El knew Mike could never let thousands of people die, not when he could do something to save them.He would be the hero.Mike was always the hero.

But it wasn’t fair.

She watched the Kraken surge through the water toward the fireworks.She counted the seconds before Mike drove the car over the cliff.She felt tears streaming down her cheeks but it was like they belonged to another person.

El looked at the cliffs and the water, and suddenly her eyes widened.It all became clear.

She could save him.

El had saved him before, on a cliff just like this, when they were twelve years old.Mike had leaped into the quarry and she’d caught him with her mind.She’d saved his life.She could do it again.She _would_ do it again.The grey wall wouldn’t stop her.

The Kraken turned toward the cliff, howling, and she knew it was time.

She saw the headlights first.Then the El Camino shot from the cliff and hurtled through the air right at the Kraken’s gaping jaws.El thought she saw a shadow leap from the car.

Then the shadow was gone, vanishing into the dark, or maybe it had never been there at all.The El Camino crashed into the Kraken’s mouth.Orange lighting crackled and exploded over the monster’s head, washing across the thing like an electric river.The beast’s scream of pain was so terrible that El almost felt sorry for it.Almost.

Lightning swept down from the head and cascaded over the creature’s body.El looked desperately for the little shadowy figure that maybe was never there, but the lightning was so bright it was blinding.

The Kraken disintegrated in front of her eyes, turning to ash as the power of the Spear coursed through it.El hardly noticed.

Mike was gone.She hadn’t saved him.She never even had a chance.

“Mike!” she screamed into the darkness.“Mike!”

She kept screaming.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Cliffs**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

As the El Camino went over the cliff, Mike got his feet under him and pushed clear.He was through the door and the car fell away.For a moment he hung weightless, in the center of infinity, and he saw the sky above and the sea below.He saw the cliffs and the shore, the Kraken and the fireworks, and the little boat in the harbor where his love waited for him.

The car rammed the monster, driving the Spear into its throat.Mike saw a burst of orange lightning flare up like a fireball.It engulfed the creature’s head and then the shock wave flashed out.It caught Mike, lifted him, and set him spinning.

He rotated in space.He saw the sea below, the water so dark it was almost black.White-capped waves decorated it like lace.He saw Eleven’s little boat and the dying Kraken and the narrow sandy beach at the base of the cliffs.

He rotated again and saw the sky above, scattered with pink and purple clouds like cotton candy.He saw the pinprick lights of the stars, and the great ivory disk of the moon, and he felt the wind on his skin.

Gravity tugged at him, gently, and Mike’s weightless drifting turned into flight.He made an arcing path toward the water, and even as he fell he was rotating, faster and faster.

There was the sea below, with the waves and the salt and the spray.

There was the sky above, with the clouds and the stars and the moon.

There was the sea below.

There was the sky above.

Sea.

Sky.

Sea.

Sky.

Sea sky.

Sea sky.

Sea sky sea sky seaskyseaskyseaskyseaskyseasky.

Black.

* * *

_There was the sky above.It was dark, limitless, strung from horizon to horizon with glowing clouds.There was the moon, full and bright, and the last pale pink of the sun far to the west.There was the gold and green of fireworks and their blazing lights outshone the stars._

_Mike hung at the center of infinity._

_There hadn’t been any choice.He wished there had been but there wasn’t.So he did what he always did.He did what he had to do._

_He was falling._

_He was afraid._

_He didn’t regret anything except El.If he’d known the last time he saw her was the last time, he would have done something different.He wasn’t sure what, but it would have been different._

_Mike remembered her.He remembered her that first night in the rain.He remembered her at the quarry.He remembered their first kiss, and the Snowball, and the day she moved away, and a thousand more moments besides.He saw each day of his life with her and he treasured every single one._

_He only wished he had one more chance to see her, one more memory to make._

_And then he did._

_Somehow she was there, right beside him, looking into his eyes and stroking his face as the sea and the sky spun around him.She was beautiful, as beautiful as she’d ever been.She kissed him._

_El kissed him and Mike wasn’t afraid._

_Then she smiled sadly and let him go and he fell away from her.It was all right though.Just knowing she was there made everything all right._

_In the last moments before the sea took him, Mike’s soul reached out to El and this is what it said._

_I love you._

_I will always love you._


	30. The Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I meant to post yesterday but got caught up in things. As an apology for my egregious tardiness, and because what the heck, I am posting both chapter 30 and chapter 31 today. Call it the Constantius quarantine two-for-one special.
> 
> These chapters wrap up the big finale of When He Was Special. There will be a couple of chapters of epilogue and then we’re done.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the latest post and as always, thank you so much for reading.

Mike woke to the sound of birdsong. The air smelled clean and fresh.The sky was crystal blue, with wispy clouds that cast pleasant spots of shade.He lay on thick grass that waved in the wind and tickled his nose.

He sat up and stretched.He was warm in the sun but a gentle breeze brought cool air just when he needed it.

Nothing hurt, he realized. He vaguely remembered a gash in his side, and an aching purple bruise on his back, but they were gone. Something else had happened to him, something that should hurt even more, but like the gash and the bruise it was gone and trying to remember it was like grabbing smoke.

Mike got to his feet, idly noting that he was wearing his blue jeans and sneakers and his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His clothes were very clean, the shirt so white it almost glowed in the sunlight. A thought tugged at his mind, a sense that his clothes should be torn and wet, but clearly they weren’t and that memory faded too.

He looked around.Lush grassland stretched over rolling hills all the way to the horizon, except to the east, where a thick wood stretched as far as he could see. It wasn’t a dark, brooding wood, but pleasant and welcoming, promising easy walking and cool shade.

There was a path nearby, a dirt trail leading through the grassland toward the woods. It was a yard wide, smooth and flat. It was perfect for walking, so Mike walked on it, making his way toward the forest.

He felt oddly like something was missing. There was something he needed to do, a place he needed to be. But the beautiful grassland and the beckoning forest brought such a sense of contentment.They pushed that odd feeling to the back of his mind.It dissolved whenever he tried to think about it directly. But it wouldn't go away.

After a while he reached the woods and the path took him on a meandering course through the trees. Sunlight dappled the forest floor and the leafy branches stirred in the wind.

Mike looked closely at the trees and found he didn't recognize them. They weren't like any he'd ever seen before. They were... better... somehow. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with the trees he was familiar with, maples and oaks and elms and spruce, but it was as if these trees were _ideal_. These trees, in all their many varieties, were what trees were supposed to look like.

The grass and the shrubs were like that too, Mike realized. They were _perfect_. The flowers that decorated the glades were brighter than any flowers he'd seen before and they smelled sweeter. The butterflies were prettier and their wings glowed like stained glass.

As he strolled the path a sense of peace settled over him, comfortable like a warm blanket. He felt like he'd been waiting to come to this place all his life.Now that he was here, he could relax and be who he was meant to be.

But that sense of something missing still played at the back of his mind.

El, Mike realized. He needed to get back to El. He didn't know where she was but he didn't think she was here.

There had been a... a fall of some kind, he remembered. He had a vision of sky and cliffs and water. Was it the ocean? He wasn’t sure. But he knew El was waiting for him there.

She'd be worried about him.

He followed the path into a glade. The trees towered on all sides and sunlight streamed in through the leaves.It reminded Mike somehow of a cathedral. There was a small brook, the waters crystal clear and sparkling. The pebbles in its bed were smooth and polished and somehow perfect in their little imperfections.

Next to the brook was a stone bench that was the perfect height for sitting, and someone sat there, waiting for him.

She was pretty, with short red hair and glasses. She was young, but older than Mike. She might be called overweight, Mike thought, but she was no less pretty because of that. It was right for her, somehow, and part of her beauty.

"Hi," she said and her smile was part of her beauty too.

"Hello," Mike answered and then he hesitated. "I'm sorry... aren't you Barb? My sister Nancy's friend?"

"That's right," the girl said. "Barb Holland."

"I thought you looked familiar. I'm Mike."

"I know," she said. "Nancy's little brother. You've grown since we saw each other last."

"Yeah, I guess it's been a few years,” Mike said. He hesitated again. "Um, I know this may sound kind of strange, but... some people told me you were dead."

Barb shrugged.

"I mean, clearly you're not," he said quickly. "You’re sitting right here in front of me."

She shrugged again.

Mike looked around the glade. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place before. Where are we?"

"Where do you think we are?" Barb asked gently.

"I don't know." Mike looked up ahead where the trail led further into the woods, then back the way he came. "Um, I really should get back."

"Don't you like it here, Mike?"

"It's wonderful," he admitted. "I've never seen a place like this. I feel relaxed here, you know?Like it feels _right_ somehow."

"I know," she said.

"But I really ought to go. El will be worried about me. I should get back to her."

"I'm afraid that's not your decision anymore," Barb told him, and despite her words her voice was kind.

"Whose decision is it?"

She shrugged.

"It's just..."Mike sighed. "It’s El. You haven’t met her, but she's this amazing girl. I love her. I promised her I'd come back."

Barb didn't say anything.

"If I keep following this trail, will that take me to her?" he asked.

"No," Barb said. "El's not here."

Mike nodded slowly. "Then I really should go find her. Can you tell me how to get back? We were on the shore. There were cliffs and a harbor."

"Why would you want to go back, Mike?" she asked in her calm, friendly voice. "You've wanted to be here for so long. You finally got your wish. You should be happy."

"It's a wonderful place," he said. "I should be happy. But I need to get back to El."

"I'm sorry," said Barb, and she genuinely sounded sorry. "That's not your decision to make."

Mike looked around the glade. He listened to the birdsong.The beautiful shimmering notes were like a symphony.

He looked at the trees and the grass and the flowers and the butterflies.They all called to him to set his burdens down and be at peace.

"Why am I here, Barb?" he asked.

Her voice was gentle. "Why do you think you're here, Mike?"

He watched a butterfly with wings like stained glass land on a perfect flower. The wind sang in the trees.He sighed. "I guess I'm dead."

Barb smiled. "I guess you are."


	31. The Star

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Steve heard a cheer go up from Remo's soldiers. Brilliant orange lightning reflected in the waters of the lagoon. There was an unearthly howling from the Kraken and then... the monster’s scream abruptly cut off.

There was another cheer.The lightning flickered and ash drifted across the waters.

Steve shook his head, a tired smile on his face.

Goddamn. Wheeler did it.

A number of Remo’s men were standing around near the cave entrance. They were weary, their features smudged with soot and grease, and a few of them were wounded.Despite that, they were all relaxed and laughing and at ease.

Steve approached cautiously, motioning Dart to stay behind him.Sully had broadcast a warning about the demodog to Remo’s team, but Steve was still a little worried about friendly fire.

"Hey," one of the soldiers called, "aren’t you the guy who took out that demogorgon by the gate machine? The guy with the bat?”

Steve nodded, surprised. "That's right. I mean, that's me.I mean, I actually used a gun to kill it, but..."

He stopped talking as the soldier wrapped him in a manly, back-slapping hug. "Great work, dude. I tell you, once you got the Gate closed and those creatures stopped healing, we were finally able to kick some ass."

"Well, it wasn't just me—" Steve started.

"Yeah, we’re finally on mop-up now," another soldier said. "And someone just took out the big one, there in the harbor. Hit it with a car bomb or something.Man, talk about a light show."

"It’s dead?" Steve asked, knowing the answer but needing to be sure. "That’s what that cheer was?"

"You got it," the soldier said. "Scratch one Kraken."

"Holy shit," Steve murmured.

They'd done it. They'd really done it. They'd saved the world. Wheeler's crazy, last-minute plan had actually worked.

"Um, excuse me," he told the soldiers, "I just need to check in with my friends..."

The men went back to their conversation as Steve stepped away and keyed the Supercomm.

"Paladin, Seahorse, this is Red October. Word is you did it." Steve couldn't stop a grin from breaking across his face. "You did it! I don't believe it, Wheeler, you crazy son of a bitch, you actually got that thing! Congratulations!"

There was silence.Steve’s brow furrowed.“Paladin, Seahorse, you guys there?This is Red October.”

More silence.

“Guys?”

There was a crackle of static and Jonathan came on the line. His voice was quiet. "Steve... I think you better get out here."

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Shore**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

El was frantic. She couldn't see Mike anywhere. Her eyes roamed the water, the shore, the gooey sludge that was all that remained of the Kraken. Her endless tears and the dying light made it so hard to see. All she could do was look for shapes in the water when the fireworks strobed the sky.

She screamed Mike's name, over and over.

He promised her he would come back.

Another firework burst overhead, a great silver starburst. El scanned the water desperately. Nothing.

"There!" Jonathan shouted. "By the shore!"

There was a body in the water. It floated facedown, not far from the strip of sandy beach at the base of the harbor cliffs. The light of the fireworks showed El a white shirt, blue jeans, long black hair. There was no movement, just the limp body rocking in the waves.

"Mike!" she sobbed.Every ounce of hope drained out of her heart.

"El, we have to get over there!" Jonathan said.

She nodded, fumbling for the steering wheel, trying to see through her tears as she throttled up the engine.

She hadn't saved him. She'd never even had a chance.

When they got near, she turned off the motor. Jonathan went over the side into waist-deep water and plunged through the surf toward Mike. Will followed, then El. She knew the boat would drift away, unmoored, but she didn't care. She didn't think she'd care about anything ever again.

Jonathan and Will started pulling Mike toward the shore. El was dimly aware of shouts and she saw figures running down the beach toward her. It was Steve, and behind him were Lucas and Max, Dustin, Joyce. As she watched, utterly numb, Steve raced into the water, splashing through knee deep waves to help Jonathan and Will.

El was vaguely conscious that Lucas was next to her and so was Max and they were helping her toward the beach. They were saying something - everyone was saying something - but she only heard snatches of sound as she watched Steve and Jonathan lay Mike on the sand.

"...nothing broken..." said Jonathan. "...blacked out when he hit the water...Not breathing... no pulse...”

Steve nodded, his face ashen. “Drowned... We need... get his shirt open..."

El stared. Mike's skin had always been so pale but now it was ghastly white. His lips, usually such a lush red, were a color that wasn't quite purple and wasn't quite blue but a little bit of both.

His eyes were open. They were big and brown the way she remembered, but they were missing the light inside them that made them beautiful.They were empty and they didn't see anything.

Jonathan ripped Mike's shirt open, exposing his pale, narrow chest. Steve crossed his hands over Mike's breastbone, pushing down on it again and again. He was counting, El realized, "One, two, three, four..."

Then Steve said, "Breathe," and Jonathan put his mouth on Mike's.

El stared at her older brother in shock, rage ripping through her. Jonathan blew into the boy's mouth, a grotesque kiss, then did it again. He leaned back and Steve put his hands on Mike's chest and started pressing. "One, two, three, four..."

"Stop it!" El screamed. "Stop it! What are you doing? Leave him alone!" She stepped toward them but Lucas grabbed her arm.

"El—" the dark-skinned boy began.She pulled savagely against his grip.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, then she screamed again at Steve and Jonathan. "Leave him alone, leave him alone! What are you doing? Can't you see he's dead? Leave him alone!"

"El!" Max said, grabbing her by the shoulders, helping Lucas restrain her. "They're giving him CPR!They're trying to save him."

El froze, her anguished mind searching for those three letters. She thought she knew them.Yes.They were from her apprenticeship, the boating safety class.On the second day, the instructors taught her CPR.

Cardio-pulmonary resuscitation. When someone's heart stopped, you used CPR to stimulate the muscle, try to get it beating again. You pushed on the chest to shock the heart and keep the blood flowing.You blew into the mouth to get oxygen in the lungs.

Mike was dead and Steve and Jonathan were trying to bring him back to life.

"Breathe," Steve said again. Jonathan breathed into Mike's mouth and El felt a surge of love for her older brother.

_Please. Please save him. Please bring him back._

A minute passed. Three minutes.Five.

El could see her friends' downcast eyes. Max and Will were crying and so was Joyce. Dustin stared at his shoes. Lucas was still holding El's arm but his grip was gentle now.

"Come on, Wheeler," Steve said through gritted teeth. "You're no quitter. Keep fighting!You can do this."

The older boy kept pressing, Jonathan kept breathing. Mike's eyes stared up at the stars and saw nothing.

It wasn't working. Mike's heart wouldn't start again.

El gently pulled her arm from Lucas' grasp. She stepped forward, next to Mike, and sank to her knees at his side. Steve looked at her, never stopping his compression.

"Let me," El said.

"El..." Steve began, but she shook her head.

"Let me."

Steve slowed his compression, then stopped. El gently pushed his hands away and laid her own on Mike's chest. She didn't press, she just rested her hands there, concentrating.

"El," Max said. “What are you...?" She paused. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and sad. "El, you don't have your powers."

El closed her eyes.She stepped into her mind.

* * *

The grey wall was there, stretching forever in every direction. El stared at the blank, frictionless surface and her resolve wavered. The wall had defeated her at every turn. It always defeated her.

Mike's life had been on the line before and that was never enough to push past the barrier. He was dead now. Was that what she needed to get her powers back? For Mike to die?

In that lonely void in front of the silent wall, she started to cry. How was she supposed to do this?

Then she pushed the tears back, dried her eyes. She _would_ do this. She had to.

El walked into the black part of her soul, where all her hatred and fear and anger lived, and she began to gather the darkness to her. The first place she went was Papa. She'd seen him today. That brought back all the pain, all the torment, and she filled her hands with the vile oily slime of her rage. Flame flickered to life in her hands, red darkening to blue. Papa had abused her, tortured her, and now she would use her shame and her hate to give her power, just like—

She paused.

Just like Papa taught her.

Papa had shown her how to tap into her dark emotions and draw strength from them. Then Kali taught her to find even more power by going deeper into the blackness of her soul.

El hesitated, there in front of the infinite grey wall.

Papa was a sociopath. He was a man who could imitate kindness and love, but he couldn't feel them. He was completely lacking in empathy; he didn’t even understand the concept. His every emotion was linked to his own self-interest. Deep down, Papa thought he was the only real person in the world and everyone else was a puppet created for him to use.

Kali... Kali was lost. She had been good once, and kind, and she could resurrect those feelings on occasion. But she'd let the abuse she suffered in the lab poison her soul. She'd sacrificed every good emotion she had on the altar of revenge. There was almost nothing left of the happy little girl Kali had once been. All that was left was anger and hate.

Papa and Kali. They'd taught El to draw power from the dark part of her soul because darkness was all they knew.

El let the blue flames in her hands die. She turned away from the blackness and walked another path.

The first place she stopped was Dustin. The curly-haired boy was always so sweet and gentle. He'd seen the terrors of the Upside Down, and suffered loss in his life, but it never changed him. He was forever happy and pleased with the world. He had never been anything but kind to her, and El dipped her hands in the memories of his friendship. Those memories were a glowing ball of soothing light, and as she gathered them up they turned to red flame in her palms. El went on then, further into her soul.

Max was next. The red-haired girl was a good person, underneath her snark and her cynicism. She tried so hard to be a good friend, despite giving awful advice about all kinds of things. She meant well, El knew, and her heart was kind.El filled her hands with Max's caring and friendship, and the flame in her palms burned orange.

El visited them all, Will and Jonathan and Steve and Lucas and Joyce, collecting pieces of kindness and friendship and joy and love. She scooped up the laughter of her friends on a summer's day, and the giggling hugs watching a scary movie, and the deep conversations late into the night about life and love. The flame in her hands burned the palest lemon-yellow.

El walked deeper into her soul and she came to Hopper. There was darkness here, anger and resentment and regret and sadness. But there was joy too, and hope, and security, and caring. Jim Hopper wasn’t the best father in the world, but he tried as hard as he could for El, and he loved her.

When she left the part of her soul where her father lived, the flame in El's hands was pure white.

There was one more place left to go. It was the deepest part of her soul. It was the heart of her, the home of the fundamental things that made her _El_.

That was where Mike lived and there was nothing there but love.

It was more than she could ever imagine, enough love to last a thousand lifetimes and more. It was a river that would never run dry.El let the endless flow wash over her, Mike's love for her and her love for Mike, and the flame turned brilliant. It flowed up her arms, poured over her shoulders, engulfed her body in white fire so bright that it was blinding.

El blazed like a star.

Floating in space in front of the grey wall and casting her light out into infinity, El spoke. She didn't know if she was talking to God or the universe or something else entirely. But whoever it was, she knew that they heard her.

_I'm sorry_, she said. _You can't have him now_.

Wreathed in white flame, she focused all the power in her soul.

_I need him._

_I love him._

El's star went supernova.

* * *

The power coursed through her.There was so much, more than she had ever handled even in her most desperate moments. It took all of her will to channel it, push it out and away from her, holding only what she needed. She wanted to shock Mike's heart, not smash it.

El’s mind funneled the overflowing energy out across the beach. The shockwave knocked her friends from their feet, tumbling them to the sand. She pushed the power out ever further. The motorboats at the dock capsized, ripped from their moorings. On the cliffs above, trees cracked and fell.

A mile down the shore, the windows of the lighthouse shattered in a million little pieces.

El held the shard of power that was left and ever so gently she touched it to Mike's heart.

His back arched. Spurred by the power of her mind, his heart beat. It beat again. And again.It kept beating.

Mike's eyelids fluttered and he broke into a fit of coughing. He was alive. The other half of El's soul was alive.

Mike was alive.

"El!" he gasped, choking and coughing on the sand, reaching for her blindly. She wrapped him in her arms, feeling cold skin, wet clothes, damp hair, and it was so, so good.

"They wanted me to stay,” he mumbled.“They told me I had to stay. But I didn't want to, El. I wanted to be with you."

He was babbling, delirious after drowning and dying and coming back to life. El stroked his wet hair, holding him against her. "It's okay, Mike. I'm here. I'm here with you."

"El," he sobbed, and his strong, slender arms tightened around her and crushed her against him and El wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment with this boy forever.

She cupped Mike’s cheek and pressed her lips against his. She tried to meld their bodies together, to give all of her warmth to him. When she broke the kiss, Mike looked into her eyes.

"It wasn't what I wanted, El," he murmured. "I thought it was, but it wasn't. What I want is to be with you."

"You are, Mike," she said. She kissed him again.

"Don't let me go," he whispered.

"I won't," she said. "You're here with me, Mike. You're here with me and I’ll never let you go."


	32. The Win

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back.
> 
> I’m sorry for the very long gap between updates. It boils down to two things. One, in the new world of coronavirus, work has me absolutely slammed. There is more to be done, and with everyone working from home, it’s harder to do. I’d hoped the lockdown would give me more time to write but it’s actually been the opposite.
> 
> Two, I went back and reread the story and - I’ll be blunt - I was disappointed. I’m just not as good at this writing thing as I’d like to be. That kind of took the wind out of my sails and kept me from writing for awhile. Eventually I reminded myself that you don’t get better at something by sitting around wishing you were better, you get better at something by doing it. So I’m back in the saddle and there you go.
> 
> I could probably end the story with this chapter, but there are still a couple of small loose ends to tie up. More important, after all they’ve been through, I want to give Mike and El one more chapter of fluff. I think they deserve it. 😊
> 
> I’m already getting my thoughts together for Book III of the Special series. I’ll be posting some image boards for that story on my tumblr (you can find me over there as johnconstantius), so take a look if you’re curious. I also welcome ideas and requests for that story. I can’t guarantee I’ll use all of them, but if there’s something you’d like to see, let me know here in the comments.
> 
> And now... chapter 32 of When He Was Special.

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Project**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The fireworks were still bursting overhead when the helicopters landed. Men in camouflage fatigues piled out of the choppers, then fanned out across the docks and into the caves. As Sam Owens watched, some of the men started packing up equipment and machinery. Others took charge of the Russians, herding the prisoners into transport trucks.

A group of men in yellow hazmat suits climbed out of a van marked _Bath Power & Light_.They started collecting the oily, ashen remains of the creatures from the Upside Down.The gooey sludge went into aluminum cases that seemed to be some kind of high-tech cooler.Sam made a mental note to requisition one of the cases for his next trip to the beach.It would be perfect for keeping his beer cold.

He watched the clean up with a smile. The operation hadn't gone off smoothly, but it had gone off. Put one in the win column for the good guys.

His smile didn't fade even when Joyce stalked toward him, waving her arms. The small woman was excitable and she yelled a lot, but Sam decided he found it endearing. Joyce Byers was brave and smart and stone-cold when she had to be, and Sam had a lot of time for someone like that.

"What is all this?” she demanded, her gesture taking in the soldiers and the helicopters and the trucks rumbling down the harbor road.

"This is your tax dollars at work, Joyce,” he said. “These men are government reps and they're dismantling a foreign intelligence operation on US soil."

"Don't give me that bullshit," she snapped. "Where were these guys an hour ago when we needed them?"

"Ah.That."

"Right._That_."

"It's all about factions, Joyce," he said. "These guys have been waiting to see who would win today, me or Brenner. Since I came out on top, the people they report to are happy to help me cover up this little incident."

Joyce frowned. "And if Brenner had won?"

"Then they'd be helping him dispose of our remains and bring more of those monsters across to our world."

Joyce stared at him. "You're... you're not kidding."

"No. I like to make jokes, but I don’t kid about things like this."

For a while they watched the clean up. Sam glanced at Joyce now and then. She must have been tired but she wasn't letting it show.There was a lioness inside this single mom who clerked at the Dollar Store.

When Remo approached with a handcuffed Martin Brenner, the lioness came out.

"Hello, Sam—" Brenner said, and Joyce cut him off with a slap to the face.

"You bastard!" she hissed. "You sick, twisted bastard! Why do you keep doing this?"

Brenner looked at her calmly, somehow icy and aloof even with handcuffs and a broken nose and a red handprint rising on his cheek."There is nothing more important than this, Mrs. Byers.”

"Nothing more important...?You stole my boy! You tortured my daughter! You took—" Emotion overwhelmed her and for a moment she just sobbed.

"What did I take?" Brenner asked.He was still calm.

Joyce slapped him again. "Hopper! Goddammit, you know what I'm talking about! Jim Hopper! Where is he?"

Brenner smiled just a little, a quirk at the corner of his mouth. "I'm afraid I don't know, Mrs. Byers."

She grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him down until they were nose to nose. "Don't lie to me! You know!_Where is he?_"

"Easy, Joyce," Sam said, prying her hands from Brenner's shirt. "While I love a good beatdown as much as the next guy, there might be better ways to get this out of him."

"I'm sorry," Brenner said, that little smile still on his lips. "I really don't know. I wasn't there last year when the Russians took him and I don't know where he is now. I genuinely wish I could help you, Mrs. Byers, but I can't."

Joyce slapped him again, hard, and made sure to hit his nose. This time the white-haired man couldn't stifle a grunt.

"I'm warning you," she said."Stay away from me. Stay away from my family. You’ll regret it if you don't."

The small woman stalked away, anger radiating from her in waves that were almost visible.

Sam cocked an eyebrow. "I think she means it, Dr. Brenner. Trust me, she's not a woman you want to mess with."

Brenner waved his cuffed hands, dismissing the incident. "We were close, Sam.We almost had control of the transdimensional entity. It would have guaranteed American security into the next century and beyond."

"It looked to me like the transdimensional entity was eating your men for lunch, Dr. Brenner.And I can't imagine what American security would be like with that thing on the loose."

The white-haired man smiled thinly. "I admit things didn't go entirely as planned. I didn’t count on the creature being so devious. I won’t make that mistake again."

"Devious?” Owens said.“Wow, if that’s not the pot calling the kettle black.Anyway, I think you've made enough mistakes, Dr. Brenner.I'm not going to give you the opportunity to make any more. We both know I can't put you in a federal penitentiary, but there are plenty of black sites where you can disappear."

Brenner ignored his words. "I'm actually grateful for your intervention today, Sam. The creature intended to betray me and you were very helpful in stopping it. I'll be more cautious next time."

Sam frowned. "Did you even hear what I said?_You’re done_, Brenner.”

The white-haired man’s expression didn’t change.He just gave a little shrug.

Owens sighed.“It's like you're in your own world. Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter any more." He waved over a pair of soldiers. "Take him away, gentlemen.”

“Goodbye, Sam,” Brenner said.“I’ll see you again soon.”

“No, you won’t.And don't you ever fucking call me Sam again. It's Dr. Owens to you."

Brenner smiled again, that smile that was small and cold and never reached his eyes.The soldiers led him away.

Sam watched the chaos of the crowded docks, feeling a little less content than he had before.He turned to Remo, frowning.

"Something wrong, sir?" the lieutenant asked.

"I don't know.For a guy whose entire operation just fell apart, a guy who’s going to spend the rest of his life in a secret government prison, Brenner didn’t seem very upset."

Remo shrugged. "The guy's an ice man. He's won’t show anything. Don't worry, sir, we just gave Brenner a really bad day. Hell, a really bad year."

"Yeah, we did," Sam said, still feeling troubled.

"Sir?"

"Lieutenant, when I talked to Martin Brenner three days ago, he told me he wanted two things." Sam ticked the points off on his fingers. "One, he wanted Jane Ives to get her powers back. Two, he wanted the Wheeler kid as leverage to control her. Well, Jane’s powers are back.If anything, they’re stronger than ever.As for Wheeler, he died today taking out the Kraken... and then Jane Ives revived him."

Remo nodded."Right.So he’s alive and still available as leverage."

"Exactly. I agree, this has been a bad day for that white-haired son of a bitch... but it hasn't been a total loss." Owens shook his head. "I don't know, Lieutenant. I've got a bad feeling that we haven't seen the last of Martin Brenner."

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Project**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

El watched the soldiers lead Papa across the docks in handcuffs. He walked with a quiet dignity, his back straight and his head high. That was the Papa she remembered. He was a man who never cracked, who never showed anything but cold eyes and a little smile.

El had treasured those little smiles growing up, the only signs he ever gave that he was proud of her.She would have done anything for one of those smiles.

She hated him so much.

She had her powers back now. They were stronger than they’d ever been. Papa was fifty yards away but she could reach across the dock with ease, wrap her power around his brain, then twist and squeeze until the blood dripped from his eyes. With a single thought she could drop him lifeless to the ground where he would never hurt anybody ever again.

The soldiers led him to a helicopter. Papa looked around the docks one last time.He saw her.

He smiled. He raised his hands, still in their cuffs, and he waved to her. It was a gentle wave, restrained like everything that Papa did. She saw his lips move, saying her name: _Eleven_.

That wasn't her name, she told herself, not anymore. Her name was El. That was the name Mike gave her and that was who she really was.But she'd been Eleven for a very long time and she realized there was a part of her that would always be Eleven.

She waved to Papa. It was a gentle wave, restrained, just like his.

He smiled again and nodded. Then he turned away and climbed into the helicopter. The soldiers filed in after him, the rotors spun up, and in moments the craft disappeared into the night.

After all this time, El still loved him. She didn't know how that could be, but it was, and she didn’t think the emotion would ever go away. She would have to figure it all out someday, her feelings for this man and how to reconcile them into something she could live with.

Someday, but not today.

"You ready to go, sweetie?" her mother asked.

El nodded and let Joyce and a pair of soldiers lead her to another helicopter. She smiled when she saw who waited inside.

_Mike_.

He was lying on a stretcher, swaddled in heavy blankets while a pair of army corpsmen hovered over him. But he was alive and he was breathing and El thought he’d never looked more beautiful.

The helicopter lifted off. El made her way to the stretcher, crouching at Mike's side as the corpsmen made room for her. She clasped his hand and he smiled at her. His eyes were glazed, a bit unfocused, but they were shining again with that warm spark that made them so gorgeous.

"El," he murmured.

"Mike," she said, and she couldn't stop smiling. She leaned over him and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"They're taking you to the hospital," she said. "You got some water in your lungs.”

"That wasn't very smart of me.”

El kissed his forehead again.

"I heard that we did it," he said. "We killed the Kraken.”

"_You_ did it," she told him. "You were amazing, Mike. You saved the world."

He snorted. "I drove a car off a cliff and then drowned. I'm pretty sure it was you and Steve and the Party who saved the world."

"Mike—" she began, but his grip tightened on her hand and the look on his face was so serious she stopped.

"You saved me, El," he said. "You brought me back."

"Mike..." She felt tears start from her eyes.She'd lost him, just for a few minutes, but that was long enough for her to know that she could never lose him again. She wanted to hug him, but he had all sorts of tubes and wires attached and she was worried it would hurt him. She kissed him instead and looked into his glorious brown eyes.

"_You_ saved _me_, Mike," she said. "Four years ago, that night in the rain, you saved me. And you saved me every single day after that." She shrugged, a tear trickling down her cheek. "If I save you now and then, it's only fair."

They were quiet for the rest of the trip. Mike was tired, and soon closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. El sat beside him, holding his hand.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Gate Chamber**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

The fires in the sea cave were finally out.Steve Harrington walked beside the lagoon and watched the government clean-up crews pack all the machinery away.No doubt they would transport it to some secret warehouse, where mysterious men in white lab coats would use it to do dark and nefarious things. That wasn’t great, but it would have to be someone else’s problem.

He stopped by the wreckage of the gate machine.The floor was scorched and there were bits of metal scattered about.There was a black scar on the cave wall, all that remained of Brenner’s portal to another dimension.

Any signs of the demogorgon Steve had killed were long gone. It didn't matter. He knew where the fight had happened.He knew where he'd pulled the trigger and brought the creature down. He stood in the spot and reveled in the memory.This was where he’d done the one thing he was any good at. This was where he’d helped save the world.

But that was hours ago. Now the Gate was closed and the demogorgons were gone.The crisis was over. Everything could go back to normal.

Steve Harrington could go back to being a loser.

He sighed. He had another week left on his vacation, but he thought he might head back early.His car was at the bottom of the ocean, but he could try to hitch a ride or maybe scrape up enough cash for a ticket on the Greyhound.

He scuffed the floor with his shoe, in the place where he’d been a hero.

_It was right here. The demogorgon was choking him, and he had the Shakespeare book shoved in its mouth.Then Dustin tossed him the gun and blam! He dropped the monster cold._

He sighed again. He'd stick around for the weekend at least, make sure Wheeler was okay, even celebrate a little.Then he’d head back.Maybe Dr. Owens would spring for a plane ticket. If Steve managed to fly out Monday afternoon, he could be back at work on Tuesday.He could start earning some cash for a new car.

He wasn't sure how he'd get to work once he was back in Hawkins. Ride his bike, probably. The Family Video store wasn't that far from his house.He could get there in thirty minutes if he pedaled hard.

Maybe he’d take the bus. The bike would be cheaper, though.

Steve scuffed the ground again. It was hard to tell if the black sludge under his foot was the remains of the demogorgon or just regular ash and soot.

_He’d been a hero, right on this spot._

"Harrington, there you are."

He turned and saw Dr. Owens approaching with Remo beside him.Both men were smiling. That wasn't unusual for Owens, who seemed to find cheer in everything, but it was the first time Steve had seen Remo look anything other than deadly serious.

"Hey, Dr. Owens, Lieutenant Remo. Did you guys need something?"

"As a matter of fact,” Owens said brightly, “we need to talk to you, Mr. Harrington."

"Me? What about? Look, if this is a restricted area, I can bail. I wasn't trying to—"

"Nothing like that," said Remo. “Let’s sit and chat for a bit."

“Okay." Steve joined them at the ruins of a bank of computers. He found a clean spot on the edge of a desk and sat down. Remo gave him an appraising look.

"I saw you during the op today," the lieutenant said. "You're pretty good in a fight, Harrington. What's your background? Green Beret?Force Recon?"

"Um... I work at the video store," Steve said.

Remo smiled wryly. "You must get some tough customers there."

"I could tell you stories," Steve joked.“There was this soccer mom once—“

"So you're not military." Remo's words were a statement more than a question.

"No, never," Steve said. "I mean, I've thought about it now and then, but I guess I never got around to signing up. I graduated high school a few years ago and I've been working since then, clerking at the mall and stuff like that."

Remo and Owens exchanged glances. Remo nodded. Owens leaned forward. "Steve — can I call you Steve? There’s more to a person than what they do for a living. You may be working retail right now, but by my count you've faced off against these creatures from the Upside Down on five separate occasions."

Steve counted incidents in his head. "Uh... I guess it's three times in Hawkins and twice here in Bath, so yeah, five times.I mean, I actually fought demogorgons and Krakens four times just this week alone, but if you want to call the whole week kind of one _event_—"

Owens held up a hand. "I didn't mean to short-change you. Let’s just say it’s a lot."

"Sure, okay, a lot.So?"

Now Remo spoke. "Steve, my unit is an off-the-books special operations force working directly for Dr. Owens and his agency. We take on missions that have... unusual... elements to them. We’re always looking for capable people who are good with the unusual to join our team."

Steve's heart beat faster. "Excuse me?"

Dr. Owens grinned. "The lieutenant is asking if you'd be interested in joining his squad, Steve. You know - if things ever get too boring down at the video store."

For a moment Steve couldn't speak. His brain struggled to process Owens’ words.Finally he blurted, "Why would you want me?"

In his mind, he instantly face-palmed._Brilliant, Harrington. Way to talk yourself up. Idiot!_

Remo took the question seriously. "You're good in a fight. You take risks but you aren't foolhardy.You keep your cool in the face of some pretty scary things.And you're a leader."

"I'm a leader?" Steve wasn’t buying that one.

"You are," Remo told him. "I've seen how those kids look to you for cues. They’re smart and they’re headstrong but they listen to you. And I’ve seen how you put yourself on the line for them.That’s what real leaders do for their people.”

Steve hesitated. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, but... there had to be some mistake.These guys had completely misjudged him. “Look, Lieutenant, I really appreciate this, but I justtold you I haven’t got any military training at all. I mean, I’d probably be a liability to you guys.”

Remo exchanged glances with Dr. Owens again.

“I told you he was a good kid,” Owens said.

“We’ll take care of the training, Steve,” said Remo. “You’ve got all the raw material of a good recruit.You’ve probably got more experience with those creatures than anyone on my team. I think you’d be a real asset.”

Steve nodded, finally starting to believe this was real.Owens and Remo were really offering this to him, a chance to do something big and exciting and different.There could be more to his life than clerking at the video store.

“Look, I’m interested. I’d love to join your team. What do I do next? Do you want me to interview or something?”

Remo looked around the cave, taking in the wrecked machinery, the oily smears of the dead demogorgons, the enormous black scar on the wall that used to be the Gate. “I think this _was_ the interview, Steve.”

“Right,” Steve said.His heart was pounding so fast he thought it would burst from his chest.He took a deep breath. “Okay, I'm in.”

Remo slapped him on the shoulder.“Good man.”

“So what’s the job like? Will I be fighting the Soviets and going to Nicaragua and stuff like that?”

It was Owens who spoke.“You mean arming freedom fighters, reconning Soviet bases, that kind of thing?No, we don’t really do those kinds of missions.There are other teams to take care of ordinary stuff like that.”Owens gestured around the cave.“You could say that my team handles the... stranger things."

"Stranger things," Steve said. "Right.Got it."

Dr. Owens handed him a business card. “Take a few days. Get some rest, then call me next week and we’ll get the paperwork sorted.”

As Owens walked away, Steve looked at the card. It read, _Dr. Samuel Owens, National Security Agency, Office of Special Situations_. There was a phone number and an address in Washington, DC.

Steve shook his head, not quite believing it. He’d just landed a job with the US government... as a Professional Monster Hunter.

“It’s good to have you on the team, Harrington,” said Remo.

"Thanks," Steve said. "I mean, sir. I mean, thank you, sir."

Remo laughed. "At ease, Harrington.You’re still a civilian, at least for a little while. So relax, spend some time with your friends, and enjoy your vacation.I’ll see you in a few weeks."

“Right,” Steve said.“I’ll see you then.”He shook Remo’s hand and turned to go but then paused.“Say, Lieutenant, do you know where I can find Sully? The guy saved my life. I'd like to thank him."

Remo seemed to find something funny about that, but he just pointed at a knot of soldiers talking near the lagoon."Over there."

Steve walked toward the group.“Sully?" he called.When the soldier turned around, Steve stared, open mouthed.

Sully's hair was short, spiky and blonde. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue. She had sharp features, a pointed chin and fine high cheekbones. Dirt and soot smeared her skin, but if anything that just made her prettier.

She was chewing gum, Steve noticed, and that seemed right because her lips were bubblegum pink.

_She puts lipstick on when she goes into combat_, Steve thought. _That's awesome._

He completely forgot what he was going to say.

Sully looked him up and down, grinning. "It's funny," she said, "you don't look like you have a head wound, but you certainly act like it."

He blinked, coming back to his senses. "Sorry," he stammered. "You just... you weren't what I expected."

"Really?" She blew a bubble and popped it. "I suppose you were expecting a _guy_?"

Steve smiled. It wasn't his Tom Cruise smile, the one he used to pick up girls at the video store. It was his best smile. "I was expecting you to have brown eyes."

Sully stared at him for a moment and then she giggled.

She was an ass-kicking warrior in full tactical gear and a heavy flak vest and she straight up _giggled_.

Then she smiled back at Steve and chewed her gum a little faster. "Hey, Remo," she called. "You should have told me this guy was so cute. I would have gotten here faster."

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Project**

**Friday, July 4, 1986**

Lucas found Max sitting on the beach, far from the docks and the noise of the trucks. She was staring at the water, watching the waves lap at the sand.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she answered, smiling up at him and then turning her eyes back to the water.

He sat on the sand beside her. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

Joking comments instinctively filled his head - things like _Don't hurt yourself_ or _I can see the smoke rising_ \- but he let them fade away. Max was pensive and quiet and he realized now wasn't the time.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

She idly traced lines in the sand. "El. Mike. You and me. I don't know. Everything, I guess."

Lucas was quiet.

"Do you remember what you told me at Whateley House?" Max asked him. "About soulmates?"

"Yeah," he said carefully. "I said I believed in them, but I think most people don't find theirs."

"Right." She stared out at the water. "You also said... you said you didn't think we were soulmates."

He sighed. It had been a long day and he really didn't want to fight right now. "I did say that. I also said I didn't think it mattered."

She watched the waves, thinking.Lucas waited.

"I think you’re right,” she said finally.She took his hand. "I don’t think we’re soulmates.And I don't think it matters."

"You don't?" He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

Max shook her head. "I saw El and Mike tonight. Those two are soulmates. I mean, Mike _came back from the dead_ for her. Those two were meant to be together from the day they were born."

Lucas didn't say anything.

"And you know, that’s cool," Max said. "But then I think about you. You were so brave today. The way you fought the Russians at the gate machine. They way we worked as a team when that soldier caught us at the guardpost. And then when I went after Brenner..."

"I wasn't even there for that," Lucas said. "By the time I showed up, the fight was over."

She shrugged, smiling. "But you were so worried about me. You were just... you were really sweet. I mean, I don’t need you next to me punching Brenner. I can do that myself.But having you next to me afterward, taking care of my bruises... I need that a lot."

“Well, um... I’m glad I could help.”

Max squeezed his hand. "I'm lucky, you know? Most girls my age, the only thing they can say about their boyfriends is that they're cute and they're nice guys. That’s all they really know.But I can say my boyfriend is brave and he’s a fighter.I can say he’ll stand by me in a crisis and he'll do the right thing, even when it's hard. I know all that about you, Lucas."

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. "Thanks, Max. I guess I’d never really thought about it before, but I can say exactly the same thing about you."

"Damn right," she said sternly, then laughed.

"Okay, I guess I should say it," he grinned. "You're brave, and a fighter, and—" Max covered his mouth with her hand.

“Don’t say it just because I said it!”

He pulled her hand away.“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

"Well of course it is.But you'll make me blush.”

For a moment they just held hands and looked out across the sea.

"But I mean it," Max said at last. "I'm fifteen years old, and I already know my boyfriend is this amazing guy.Maybe my soulmate is out there somewhere, but he'd have a hard time living up to you. So I don't need him."

Lucas didn't know what to say, so he leaned in and kissed her.

"I don't need what El and Mike have," Max told him. "I just need you, Lucas. Maybe we weren't born to be together... but I love you anyway."

It was the first time she'd ever said it to him. He kissed her again. "I love you, Max."

They were quiet after that. The night wore on and two people who weren't soulmates sat on the beach and watched the moon on the water.

* * *

**Shingleford Strand, Maine - The Project**

**Saturday, July 5, 1986**

The clean up finally ended at sunrise. Steve strolled the docks, watching the soldiers pack the last of the gear. He saw Max and Lucas curled up in the back of a Humvee, sleeping peacefully after the chaos of the night before. Henderson sat on the Humvee's bumper, fighting back a yawn.

"Come on, Steve," the curly-haired boy said. "Will and Jonathan already caught a ride back to town with Hondo. I'm beat. It's time to go."

"Just taking in the view, Henderson," Steve said. "One last time."

He watched the last stragglers from Remo's team finish loading a cargo truck. One of the soldiers had short, spiky blonde hair and bubblegum pink lipstick. She caught Steve looking at her and smiled.She walked over to him as her squad climbed into the truck.

"Hi," Steve said.

Sully pulled a marker from her pocket and took Steve's hand. She turned it palm up and wrote something on it. Steve looked. It was a phone number. She'd drawn a heart around it.

She put the marker away and winked at him. Then she went back to the truck and climbed in with the rest of the soldiers. Steve gave a little wave as they drove away.

Henderson got up from the bumper and the two of them watched the truck until it was out of sight.

"Did you use Sonnet 18?" Dustin asked.

Steve grinned.“It works every time."

"Chicks dig Shakespeare."

Steve put an arm around Dustin's shoulders. "It's the secret to life, Henderson. Chicks dig Shakespeare."

* * *

**Bath, Maine - Centre Street**

**Saturday, July 5, 1986**

They didn't talk much on the drive to the hospital. Jonathan could have blamed that on the Pinto's busted muffler, but it wasn't really the engine noise that kept them quiet.The reality was they were afraid.

Afraid of Joyce.

Jonathan's mother had been fuming all morning. She didn't say anything, but the Byers children could tell she was furious. They'd known they would have to face the music eventually for going to the Project and this was clearly going to be a bad one.

Will and El tried their best to be invisible, hoping they’d go unnoticed in the back seat if they stayed quiet. Up front in the passenger seat, Jonathan knew he wouldn't be so lucky.

The light turned red at the intersection with Allen Street and Joyce brought the little green Pinto to a halt. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel until the knuckles turned white. She didn't say anything.

Jonathan stared out the window at the people strolling the sidewalks of Bath. They were enjoying a bright sunny Saturday.All they knew about last night was fireworks and sparklers and backyard barbecues. They had no idea how close they'd come to the end of the world.

Joyce cleared her throat.She still didn’t say anything.

Jonathan couldn't take the tension anymore. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off. He'd rather have it explode than keep tiptoeing around in constant fear of the detonation.

"Mom—" he said and Joyce started to cry.

He stared at her, bewildered.

"Mom?" Will asked from the backseat.His mother just shook her head, sobbing.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. I just..." The light turned green and she fumbled the car into drive. She only went another block before she turned into a parking lot. Then she folded in on herself, crying helplessly.

"Mom," Jonathan said, utterly at a loss.

“I’m sorry,” Joyce said again."It's just — Mike _died_, Jonathan. He died. And before that Hopper... It's too much. I can't take it anymore. I can't lose you."

"Mike came back, Mom," said Will. It wasn't mean to be an argument, but a comfort. "El brought him back. And Hopper's still alive. We don't know where he is, but he's alive.We’ll find him."

"But what if we don't?" Joyce sobbed. "What if we can't find him?"

"We will," said Jonathan. "We will, Mom. We always manage. Somehow."

"But what if we _don't_?" Joyce repeated. "Some day our luck is going to run out.Some day one of you is going to get killed, or taken by the Upside Down, and we won’t be able to get you back. It has to stop, Jonathan, we can't keep pushing it!”

"Mom," Eleven said and she laid her hand on Joyce's shoulder. The touch seemed to calm the small woman. Joyce took a deep shuddering breath and patted El's hand.

"I'm okay, sweetie," Joyce said. "I'm okay." She wiped tears from her cheek.

"We saved the world last night, Mom," Jonathan said. "I know it was dangerous, but it would have turned out much worse if we’d stayed home. We're a strong family, Mom. We always manage. We'll keep managing."

"You’re right," Joyce said, sniffling. "You’re right." She looked up and met El's eyes in the rearview mirror. "And don’t listen to me, sweetie, I was just... I was being silly.We’ll find your father.We'll find Hopper."

"We will," El said.It was impossible to miss the certainty in her voice.

Silence settled over the car again. Joyce took them out of the parking lot and back onto the road. They didn't talk again until they reached the hospital, but the tension was gone.

They were a strong family, Jonathan thought. But they seemed to go to the hospital an awful lot.Maybe his mother was right.Maybe, one day, their luck would run out.

* * *

**Bath, Maine - Meridian Travel Company**

**Saturday, July 5, 1986**

The clerk looked up as the door opened.A man stepped into the travel agency, wearing a black leather jacket despite the hot July sun. The man was big and walked with a cane, favoring his right leg.He came up to the counter, his heavy boots banging on the floor.

"I need ticket to Aberdeen," the man said in a thick accent. It was something eastern European, the clerk thought, maybe Polish.

"Of course," the clerk said. "Aberdeen, Pennsylvania?"

"Scotland," the man said.

"Scotland, right, silly of me. Can I see your ID, please?"

The big man handed over a drivers license. The clerk started punching information into his computer.

"Okay, so that's a ticket to Aberdeen, Scotland for... Grigori Denisov. Would you like first-class or coach, Mr. Denisov?"

"I don't care. Just give me first available flight."

"Um... okay. There's one leaving this afternoon at 4 pm out of Portland.Coach is available, I'll book that for you, save you some money." The clerk clattered away at his keyboard."Is that a round trip ticket or one way?"

"Round trip."

The clerk nodded. "I hear Scotland is lovely, but I guess you don't intend to stay permanently."

"No," Grigori said."I'll be back."

* * *

**Bath, Maine - Bath Police Department**

**Saturday, July 5, 1986**

Steve Harrington sat across the desk from Bath's chief of police.He drummed his fingers nervously on the arm of his chair until the chief raised a cautioning eyebrow.Steve stilled his fingers and the chief went back to reading his report.

The chief looked more like Jim Hopper every time Steve saw him. There was the bristly mustache, the big jaw, the thick midsection that said the chief liked his beer. Steve wondered if the look was a job requirement for small town cops.

He shifted in his chair.He still wasn’t sure why _he_ was the one who had to explain everything to the police.They should have sent Henderson. The kid could lie like a Persian rug and that was exactly the skill set they needed now. Instead, Steve would have to come up with some bullshit story and Chief Leaper would see through it, just like he did last time.Only this time, Steve would probably end up in jail... and with his pretty boy looks, he wouldn’t last long in prison.

Chief Leaper heaved a sigh and set the report aside. He leaned forward on his elbows and stared across the desk at Steve. He didn't say anything. He just stared.

Steve shifted again in his chair. He started to sweat. Maybe if he concentrated really hard, he would turn invisible.

Nope.

"What do you have to say for yourself, son?" the chief asked.

"Sir?"

"I've got credible reports of a fire and explosions yesterday at Shingleford Strand."

Steve smiled weakly. "It was probably just fireworks.Yesterday was the Fourth of July."

"_Credible_ reports," the chief emphasized. "I've got an entire dock full of capsized boats, trees uprooted in a half-mile radius, and every single window in the Shingleford lighthouse is shattered.”

Steve stayed quiet.He noticed he had a death grip on the arm of his chair and forced his hand to relax.

“I have reports of a red El Camino near the lighthouse in the late afternoon,” the chief continued.“That's what you drive, isn't it?"

"Um... I used to."

"Would you care to tell me where you were last night? Say between the hours of 6 pm and midnight?"

"Is — is this even your jurisdiction?" Steve asked. "I mean, I thought you were chief of police for the town of Bath. If stuff happens at Shingleford, how is that any of your business?"

Leaper smiled. "My jurisdiction runs south as far as Portland and north to Nobleboro. That includes Shingleford Strand."

"Oh. That's a pretty big area."

"Yes it is.The people of this state have trusted me with a big job."

"So I see." Steve coughed. "Well deserved, I’m sure."

The chief’s expression was unreadable. "I have reports that someone broke into Whateley House. _Again_."

Steve fidgeted. "Okay, look. I can explain."

Leaper stared at him.

"It was a mountain lion," Steve blurted.

The chief closed his eyes and slowly sank his face into his palm. "The same mountain lion who broke in last year?"

"I... I guess so.”

“Did he also cause all the trouble at the Strand?”

“Well... you know what they say about mountain lions."

Leaper raised his head. "What do they say about mountain lions?"

"That... that for mountain lions, breaking into your house is just the start. They'll — they'll capsize your boat. And break your windows. And... start fires."

"Who says that about mountain lions, kid?"

Steve swallowed hard. "Probably no one."

The chief toyed with the report, idly flipping pages back and forth as he looked at Steve with appraising eyes. Finally he shrugged. "Okay. Well, you're free to go."

Steve blinked in surprise. "Free to— are you serious?"

"Yeah. The NSA called this morning. They said it was all part of a covert op, critical to national security. They asked that I extend you all professional courtesy.So you're free to go."

"Why were you questioning me then?"

The chief shrugged. "Morbid curiosity."

Steve nodded. He got up and walked to the door.

"Son," the chief called and Steve looked back. "If you're some kind of spy, you're really bad at it. You might want to consider doing something that doesn't involve lying."

"It’s funny you should mention that, sir. I've actually got a new job in the works."

"You think you'll be any good at that, son?"

Steve thought for a moment and then said, "Yeah. Yeah, I think I will be."

* * *

**Bath, Maine - Midcoast Regional Hospital**

**Saturday, July 5, 1986**

The hospital room was white and sterile but the balloons and flowers made it pop with color. They brightened Mike's mood and the people made it even better. The Party was there and so were Joyce and Jonathan. Everyone was smiling, jabbering at Mike with news and jokes and well wishes. Their happiness washed over him.

It was good to be alive.

Sure, Mike’s chest ached and it hurt to breathe, but the pain meant he was still here. He could still see and touch and taste. He could still feel warmth and affection.He could still share the friendship of the people who crowded around his bed.

Most of all, he could still love.

El hadn't let go of his hand from the moment she walked into the room and sat at his bedside. She hadn't said much — she was always the quiet one — but she stroked his hair and her eyes never left him.

"The doctor says they'll be able to release you in a few days," Joyce told him. "They want to keep you under observation for a while, just to be safe. You've got some pulmonary edema - that means fluid in the lungs - but it will pass."

"It feels like an elephant sat on my chest," Mike admitted. A look of concern crossed El's face and her grip tightened on his hand. He squeezed back reassuringly.

"Next time don't try to swallow the ocean," Dustin teased.

"Better yet, make sure there isn't a next time," said Lucas."No more driving cars off cliffs, okay? Leave that to the Hollywood stuntmen."

"Good advice," Mike said and then he was seized with a fit of coughing. He sighed heavily when it passed.

Lucas squeezed his shoulder. "You did good, Mike. You killed the Kraken. You saved the world."

"So the plan worked, huh?”

"It worked. The Gate is closed, the Project is shut down, and the Mind Flayer is back in his own dimension. Not bad for a summer vacation."

"And Brenner?"

"He's in custody," said Joyce. "They’re interrogating him as we speak."

Mike glanced at El. "Has he said anything about... Hopper?"

"No," said Joyce. She spoke as much to El as to Mike. "But there were a lot of files stored at the Project. Dr. Owens is optimistic. He's sure something there will help us find Hop. We'll get him back."

Mike could hear the strain in Mrs. Byers’ voice, the forced confidence.He gently stroked El's hand with his thumb.A silence fell over the room that stretched long enough to be awkward.

"El got her powers back!" Max finally said.

"So I hear," Mike smiled.

"Watch," El told him.

She looked at some bottles of water sitting on a side table. As she concentrated, one of the bottles lifted into the air and floated to the bed. Mike laughed as the cap unscrewed itself and the bottle gracefully sank into his hand.

Another bottle floated into the air, then a second and a third. The side table followed. Then Dustin yelped as the chair he was sitting in gently lifted off the floor, carrying him with it.

El let everything sink back into place.

"That was so cool!" Dustin said. "But, um, warn me next time."

Mike grinned, feeling the happiness radiating from his girlfriend.Suddenly he gasped."El, there's no blood!"

She shook her head. A tear made a saltwater track down her cheek and she wiped it away. "No. My powers don't make me bleed anymore. Now I just cry. But they're good tears."

"Why do you think it changed, El?" asked Will.

"My powers used to come from here," she said, tapping her head. "Now they come from here." She tapped her heart.

"It still blows me away that they came back," Max gushed. "And just in time. How did you do it?"

For a moment El was quiet. "I did it for Mike," she said at last. She tapped her heart again. "Mike... is here. He belongs here. When he was gone... I had to get him back. So I did."

She stared into Mike's eyes and his throat tightened. Her words echoed in his mind. In front of all their friends, in front of her family, this extraordinary girl had given him a place in her heart.

He didn't know how long they stared at each other, holding hands, but after a while he heard coughs and the awkward shuffling of feet.

"Um... we should probably..." said Will.

"It's getting late..." said Max.

"You guys probably want to make out," said Dustin.

“Dustin!” Lucas groaned, while Mike turned an extraordinary shade of red.El couldn’t hold back a giggle.

The door opened and a nurse poked her head in. "I'm sorry folks, I'm afraid visiting hours are over."

"No! Already?" El pouted.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," the nurse said. "Your young man needs to get some rest. But you can see him tomorrow."

Mike watched his friends gather their things, saying their goodbyes, shaking his hand or gripping his shoulder or hugging him. El was the last to turn for the door. He caught her hand.

"I love you, El," he said.

She leaned over the bed and kissed him. "I love you, Mike."

* * *

The Byers family gathered in the parking lot around the green Pinto.

"Mom," El said, "I think I'll walk home."

Joyce frowned. "El, it's over three miles."

"I know. I just want to... walk."

Jonathan and Will exchanged glances. Joyce looked back at the hospital.

"El," she said warningly, "visiting hours are over."

"I — I know that! I wasn't going back to the hospital! I just... want to walk."

Will rolled his eyes. Jonathan tried to hide a grin. A smile tugged at Joyce's lips, too.

El blushed.

"All right, sweetie," Joyce said. "Have a good walk. Don't take too long."

* * *

El rode the hospital elevator to the third floor and crept down the hall. There was a nurse on duty, but a quick flicker of El’s power knocked over the woman’s coffee cup.As the nurse scrambled for paper towels and blotted the spill, El slipped past the desk. In moments she was in Mike's room. She locked the door with her mind.

Mike looked at her in surprise. "El, it's past visiting hours."

"I know," she said. There was a privacy curtain; she reached out with her mind and drew it around his bed.

Mike laughed. "El, what are you doing?" His voice was weak, but filled with warmth.

She leaned over the bed and kissed him. His lips were lovely, full and warm and soft. She remembered how cold they'd been on the beach and she never wanted them to be that way again.

"I missed you," she whispered. She kissed him again. "I almost lost you."

"You didn't," he murmured against her lips. "You'll never lose me."

El sealed his mouth with another kiss. It was tender at first, but as it went on she grew aggressive, demanding, practically devouring him.She couldn’t help it. Mike had died. She'd almost lost him forever. Desperation filled her and every beat of her heart pounded out a message for him.

_Mike, please stay._

When she finally broke the kiss, he reached up and ran a hand through her hair. He seemed to delight in the feel of the short, soft strands under his fingers. He pushed himself up off the bed just enough to kiss her again.

"El... I had to come back for you. You were all I could think about." He stroked her hair. "I came back because of you."

"Mike," she breathed. She hugged him tightly.

"I love you, El," he whispered. "I love you."

She pulled away from him.He was about to protest, but the words died in his mouth as her fingers went to the buttons of her shirt. Mike’s eyes widened when she dropped the shirt on the floor.

She stepped into her mind and used her powers to unhook her bra. It floated off her arms and draped itself over the headboard.

"Now you're just showing off," Mike said. He tried to sound cool, relaxed, but El could hear the tension in his voice and a delicious undertone of _hunger_.He kept his eyes on her face, always the good boy, and she gave a little mental giggle when his resolve cracked and he looked at her breasts.

She thought it was charming that Mike acted like a gentleman, but it was even better knowing that sometimes he couldn't.

El climbed onto the bed, pushing the sheets out of the way. She unbuttoned Mike's pajama top and helped him pull it off. Then she swung her leg over his hips and straddled him. He was hard.

There was just a thin layer of clothing between them now. His cotton pajamas, her khaki shorts, the flimsy lace scrap of her panties. She'd never been this close to him. She was already wet. She set the rhythm, grinding on him, whispering his name while he stroked her breasts.

Mike was so weak she had to help him sit up so he could suck on her nipples. It felt so good her eyes rolled back in her head.

When she came, the lights in the hospital flickered and Mike's heart monitor reset. It was just as well, the monitor had pinged so fast when she rode him that she'd worried she might be hurting him. Then she'd realized that it matched the rhythm of her own heart.

Their hearts beat in time together when they did this. El didn't know why, but the thought made her tear up with happiness.

Mike's thin pajamas had done nothing to contain his orgasm. His pants were soaked and his chest and stomach were splattered with thick pools of his semen. There was even some in the hollow of his throat. El thought he looked beautiful but Mike was so embarrassed.

Curious, and wanting to reassure him, she leaned over and gently licked the hollow of his throat clean. There wasn't much of a taste, she thought, it was just slightly salty. Mike's eyes filled with wonder and he murmured that she was amazing.

She was nervous about doing anything more, feeling like it might be too much, too fast. She floated a stack of paper towels over to the bed and helped Mike clean himself up. He blushed as she wiped his chest.

"Don't worry, Mike," she said. "I got messy too."

“El,” he groaned, and there was nothing in the world better than the ache in Mike’s voice when he said her name.

Later, she lay in bed in his arms. The curtain was still drawn. Mike was looking up at the ceiling, stroking her hair as she rested her head on his chest. She idly caressed him, loving the feel of his ivory skin.

"We'll put a stop to it, El," Mike said after a while."The Gates, the Upside Down, all of it. And we'll find your father."

She kissed his chest. "I know we will, Mike."

"It might be tough. It might take a while. But we will.I promise."

"I know.You’ll find a way." She snuggled into him, closing her eyes. She was content. "You're special, Mike. You can do anything."


	33. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to the final chapter of When He Was Special. This one is a bit of a final wrap-up. It ties up some loose ends and lays some of the groundwork for Special part 3, but mostly it’s an excuse for Mileven fluff. These kids have gone through an awful lot, especially in the last eight chapters or so, and it seemed like they deserved a little time for themselves.
> 
> So what’s next? Now that this story is done, I’m probably going to take a little break, because it’s been nine months and over 150,000 words, and that’s an awful lot. It won’t be that long of a break though, because I love writing and I’ve got a lot of ideas in my head that need to get out.
> 
> Once I’m back, I’ll be returning to my post-apocalyptic, enemies-to-lovers Mileven AU, “As Black As My Love’s Heart.” I put that story on pause so I could focus on the big finale of When He, but I’m looking forward to getting back to the adventures of our!Mike and evil!El.
> 
> At the same time, I’ll start working on Special part 3, tentatively titled “And All The Days Were Special.” I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I’ll enjoy writing it. 
> 
> With the experience I’ve gained writing the Special series, I think I might also try my hand at a bit of original fiction, though I’ll probably post that elsewhere under a different name.
> 
> As this is my last Author’s Note for a while, let me give a shout out to the marvelous Snurvel, who comments here on occasion. They are writing a lovely post-season 3 Mileven story called “Missing,” that is posted here on AO3. It’s a realistic take on what it would be like for El to move away from Hawkins and adjust to a new city and it’s really worth a look.
> 
> Finally, let me take this opportunity to say thank you to everyone who has taken time out of their busy day to read this story, and to the marvelous commenters who have left their thoughts. Feedback, whether in the form of hits, kudos or (OMG!) comments, is like crack to a writer, and you all have been my ever reliable hook-up. You’ve inspired me and you’ve kept me going on the occasions when I wondered why I was spending my time writing stories about other people’s characters. When He Was Special wouldn’t exist without you, and I’m truly grateful.
> 
> Thanks you once again for reading! Stay safe, be healthy, and I hope I see you again on Special part 3.

**Loch Lorran, Scotland – The Castle**

**Wednesday, July 9, 1986**

The prisoner kept living though he wasn’t sure why.

He would watch the sunlight creep across the floor of his cell, the beam shining through the small barred window, painting a streak of brightness on the stones.The light gave him hope, holding back his despair for an hour or a morning or a day.Inevitably the light would fade and darkness would settle across the cell and across his heart.

He cried sometimes when the light went away.

He’d been a prisoner for a long time.

It had started over a year ago with the explosion.That should have killed him, he knew, but instead he found himself... _elsewhere_.There were soldiers in the new place, and a big man in a black leather jacket who should have been dead, because the prisoner had killed him.

The prisoner learned that the place was called Kamchatka and he didn’t know how long he stayed there, locked in a small windowless room behind a metal door.His captors only opened the door to take him to another room, where they would beat him and ask him questions that he didn’t want to answer.He didn’t know the answers anyway.

The days turned into weeks.He didn’t know how many, because the lights never changed and he couldn’t tell if it was day or night.After awhile, he started to count time in meals, and there were over three hundred, none of them any good and none of them ever enough.

He’d been a big man once, and he was still tall, but his thickness withered away and every time he looked in the mirrors in the interrogation room there was less of him.The guards shaved his head, because of the lice they said.The prisoner did endless pushups and situps and every other exercise he could do in his windowless room, out of boredom as much as anything else.When they led him out of that room for the last time, his body was nothing but planes and angles and bone and muscle.

On that last day they put a hood over the prisoner’s head, and he spent hours swaddled in its cloth, the air growing warm and stale inside it.Although he couldn’t see, he knew that they took him in a car and then a plane and then another car.There were voices during the trip, Russian and British and even American.When the hood came off he was in a new cell.

For a moment he was just happy to breathe cool, fresh air.Then the door closed and he saw his new life, an eight foot by twelve foot stone cell with a cot and a bucket and a heavy wooden door.

There was also a window.

It was small, and there was no glass but only bars, and to look out the prisoner had to leap and grab the bars and pull himself up so his nose was pressed against the gritty sill.When he looked out the first time and saw the green hills and the thick woods and the glassy silver lake, he wept.It was the first time he’d seen the world outside in months.

The cell was real stone, not concrete.The blocks were hewn from a quarry and mortared and pitted.The prisoner thought they must be very old.

It was so hot in the cell during the summer that he didn’t want to move.It was so cold during the winter that his captors gave him a blanket.They interrogated him now and then, just like before, except in British accents instead of Russian.But most of the time they left him alone in his cell with nothing to do but exercise and think and look out the window.

He would watch the sunlight creep across the floor.By observing the limits of its slow march, he knew when it was the twenty-first of December and therefore winter, and he knew again when it was the twenty-first of June and summer.

He kept track of the days.

On the fourth of July, a year to the day since the explosion, he lost hope.He wept for hours and wished that he would die, really die, the way he should have done three hundred and sixty-five days before.

On the fifth of July, he was still alive.He kept going.He wasn’t sure why.

On the ninth of July, for the first time in days, he leaped up and grabbed the bars of the window to look outside.The green hills and the silver lake were so beautiful and so far away.Despair washed over the prisoner and then he saw the flower.

It was a small thing, with a thin green stem and little white petals reaching for the sun.It was growing on the windowsill outside the bars, pushing out of a little crack in the mortar.It was pretty.

The prisoner stared at the flower, struck by the way it had put down roots in the most improbable place, in the worst of conditions, and it had blossomed, and become wonderful.

He smiled, something so rare in the last year that it felt like his dry lips and hollow cheeks were cracking.He remembered another flower, one very far away, that had also survived the worst the world had to offer, and had blossomed, and become wonderful.

She was still out there, he thought.He needed to keep going, for her.

So he did.

* * *

**Maine Coastal Waters**

**Thursday, July 10, 1986**

The _Enola Holmes_ cut through the crystal waters of the Atlantic, riding the wind past the cliffs of Maine and out toward the horizon. Seagulls squawked overhead, the flags snapped in the breeze, and the violins of Percy Faith’s _Theme From A Summer Place_ kept time with the waves. El didn’t know the song, but when Mike cued it up he’d promised she would love it. After the first few bars, she realized it was perfect for a romantic sail on a beautiful summer’s day.

And it _was_ a romantic sail, because there was no one on the boat but her and Mike.

The day was a gift from Dr. Owens.He’d rented them the sloop for the afternoon – an apology, he said, for the way the Upside Down had ruined their last sailing trip.El had been so thrilled, and eagerly asked her friends if they wanted to come out with her.She was crushed when one by one they made their excuses why they couldn’t go.She tried to keep a brave face, but she was crestfallen as everyone turned her down except Mike.Then she saw her friends’ grins and their sly glances and she suddenly realized it would just be _her and Mike_.

All alone, all afternoon.

Her smile came back bigger than ever.There was a nervous explosion of butterflies in her stomach and it was absolutely delicious.

Joyce dropped them at the dock, sending them off with a wave and a chirpy, “Have fun!”El and Mike stepped on the boat and El quickly prepped it to sail.Then she gasped as a memory from their last trip pushed its way to the front of her mind.

“Oh Mike,” she wailed, “I’m so sorry!I forgot you get seasick!”She started to babble, mortified, apologizing for being so selfish.She told him they could forget the boat and do anything else, anything he wanted.

Mike smiled, catching her by the shoulders as she stammered and waved her arms and melted down right there on the deck.“El!It’s okay!Don’t worry about it.I took some Dramamine.I’ll be fine.”

Her ashamed babbling screeched to a halt.“Dramamine?When did you get Dramamine?”

“I picked some up when I left the hospital.I always have it in my pocket in case you want to go out on the water.”

She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.“You keep Dramamine in your pocket… all the time?”

“Well, yeah,” Mike said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.“I know how much you love the water.I’d hate it if you couldn’t go out when you wanted to, just because I get sick.So I carry it around with me.”

“Mike…” she said, her eyes searching his face.His expression was so open, so utterly unaware that he was making her heart swell and raising waves of emotion that swallowed her words.

Mike carried Dramamine in his pocket _all the time,_ for her.

El threw her arms around him, pulling him tight against her.She buried her face against his shoulder, because she was sure if she looked at him she was going to start crying.“Oh, Mike,” she said.

He stiffened in surprise and then slowly wrapped his arms around her.“El?” he asked uncertainly.“Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s good, Mike,” she sniffed into his shoulder.“Everything is really, really good.”

Now they were out on the water, basking in the sun and the wind and the waves.El steered the boat, trimming the sails as the breeze shifted.Mike helped.

Tried to help.

El knew he’d read dozens of books about sailing, but it quickly became clear that all his knowledge was theoretical.He could name every line on a ship, rattle off the uses for a dozen different knots, and probably write an academic paper on how to tack into the wind.But Mike couldn’t actually sail to save his life, and his awkward attempts to help El with the rigging had her desperately fighting back giggles.

She _did_ fight them back though, gently guiding Mike through his tasks.It was hard going, because Mike was awkward and clumsy and — El had to admit — kind of dorky.

He was absolutely adorable.

It was just as well, El decided.Mike was so brilliant he could come up with a plan to save the world in minutes.He was so brave he would drive a car off a cliff.He was handsome and loving and kind and his kisses made her knees weak.If he wasn’t clumsy and a bit of a dork, honestly he’d be _too_ perfect.

He tried hard though and eventually he started to get the hang of things.In fact, when El made him crouch over the jib sheet and re-tie the bowline for the third time, it wasn’t because he’d got it wrong.

It was because when he crouched, his butt looked so cute that she had to bite her lip and sigh.

Mike turned to her when he finished the knot, asking if it was right this time.She jerked her eyes up to his face and blushed.

"It... it looks really good, Mike," she stammered.She was talking about the knot, of course.

Maybe.

Mike smiled, pleased and apparently unaware that his girlfriend had been dreamily watching his behind while delicious fantasies played in her head.

_Okay, down girl,_ El thought to herself._You're out on the water with a good wind behind you.If you get... distracted... you could end up miles offshore.Or capsized.Mike's had a hard enough time on the water as it is._

She watched him move about the boat, checking knots and adjusting lines.She corrected him sometimes, gently, but mostly he got it right.He was intent, focused on his work, and he grinned with boyish glee when the boat started to respond to his commands.

Mike was amazing, she thought.His experience on the water had been terrible.He got seasick, attacked by a demogorgon, and then drowned.He _died_ with seawater in his lungs.Despite that, he was out here again, wanting to be her companion in the thing that she loved best.

He was a gift.She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this boy, but she would treasure him forever.

* * *

**Maine Shoreline**

**Thursday, July 10, 1986**

Dustin walked along the cliff edge, watching the waves crash against the rocks twenty feet below. It was a beautiful day, sunny, cloudless – perfect for playing catch by the water.

With a demodog.

Will walked beside him, watching Dustin throw a steel flywheel down the shore. Every time the device soared through the air, Dart would tear after it, grab it in his flower-petal jaws, and bring it back. Dustin would reward the creature with a Three Musketeers bar and throw the flywheel again.

“Where did you get that thing?” Will asked.

“The flywheel? I took it from the gate machine. Kind of a souvenir.”

“Do you think it’s important? Like, maybe the government scientists will notice it’s gone?”

Dustin shrugged. “I hope it _is_ important. I hope they can’t rebuild the machine without it.We don’t need any government, even ours, opening another Gate.”

“Good point.”

They walked further.There was no one else around, no sound but the waves and the wind and the flywheel clanging on the stone. Dustin pointed out to sea at a little white sloop skimming the waves. “Is that Mike and El’s boat?”

“Um, I think that one there,” Will said, pointing at a different sloop closer to the shore.

“Oh.” Dustin watched the boat. “It’s good, you know? Those two have been through a lot. It’s nice that they finally get to spend some time together.”

Will scuffed at the rocks with his shoe, gathering his thoughts. “Yeah, it is,” he finally said. “I’m happy for them.”

“Even though it’s Mike and your sister?”

“Well, El’s not really my sister,” said Will. “But whatever. It’s obvious she cares about Mike. She loves him — really loves him — and he deserves someone like that. So, yeah, I’m happy for him.” He paused. “Uh, I mean, I’m happy for El too. Because Mike loves her and she deserves that.”

Dustin could hear the loneliness in his friend’s voice.“You’ll find someone too, Will,” he said impulsively.

Will shrugged.“Maybe.”

“You will.”

They took turns throwing the flywheel for a few minutes, watching Dart scramble among the rocks.

“Any word on the Spear?” Will asked.

“Nothing,” said Dustin.“They dragged the harbor like a dozen times and couldn’t find it. They did find Steve’s car… what was left of it, anyway. But no Spear.”

“That’s too bad,” Will sighed. “It would’ve come in handy the next time this happens to us.”

“Whoa!Who said this is going to happen to us again?”

Will gave him a look of disbelief.“Dude, it’s like _every year._I can’t remember the last major holiday when something _didn’t_ happen to us.”

“Fair enough,” Dustin said grudgingly.He threw the flywheel again. “On the bright side, the government at least came through on the car.”

Now there was a good memory. A couple of days ago, Dr. Owens had pulled up to the Byers’ house in an olive green muscle car with slick curves, big tires, and a fearsome hood scoop. The car looked _fast_ and almost menacing, promising massive stores of untamed horsepower. Sitting on the front porch, Steve and Dustin gawked at the big machine and then the smiling scientist.

“Is — is that your car, Dr. Owens?” Steve asked.

“No,” Owens said, holding out a set of car keys. He folded them into Steve’s hand. “It’s yours. With the thanks of a grateful nation.”

“Are you serious?” Steve gasped. “But that’s a Gran Torino!”

“That’s right.It’s a 1972. I got the impression you like the classics. But hey, I can take this one back, get you a Volvo—”

“No!” Steve shouted. He coughed, cleared his throat. “I mean, no. This is perfect. It’s… I don’t know what to say.”

“You could say thank you,” Dr. Owens grinned.

“Right! Thank you! Thank you. I mean… wow.” Steve couldn’t stop staring at the car, checking the lines, stroking the hood as if making sure it was real. Dustin strolled around the metal beast, already imagining how badass he and Steve would look cruising the town.

“I figured it was the least we could do,” Owens said, “since you sacrificed your last car to save the world. But Steve, do me a favor. Try not to destroy the thing in the first three months, okay? My operation may be off the books, but even I have to explain my budget to someone.”

“Right. Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”

Now, in the present, Dustin couldn’t help smiling. It had all worked out. Steve had a new car, Mike and El were more in love than ever, and he himself had managed to get through the whole adventure without adding another scar. All in all, things were pretty good.

Dart barked then, dropping the flywheel and looking out to sea. The demodog dashed to the edge of the cliffs, his faceless head bobbing as if testing the air. He barked again and suddenly dove from the cliff into the water. Dustin and Will gasped, scrambling to the edge and peering over. There was nothing below but the churning waves. Dart had vanished.

“Did—did he say anything?” Dustin asked Will. “Before he jumped?”

The small boy nodded, his face etched with worry. “He said there’s something in the water. He said... danger.”

* * *

**Maine Coastal Waters**

**Thursday, July 10, 1986**

Mike grinned as the wind filled the sails. He tied off the line and whooped when the boat surged forward.

At the wheel, El cheered.“Good job, Mike!”

Sailing.Mike thought it was magnificent.It was so challenging, but the surge of satisfaction when you got it right, the feeling of accomplishment when you set the web of canvas and rope just so and the boat danced across the waves… it was addictive. He understood now, at least a little bit, why El loved this so.

It was also a bit unnerving. Mike couldn’t actually remember drowning – he’d blacked out the moment he hit the water – but he remembered the horrific burning in his chest afterwards. He knew the water had smothered him and surged into his lungs. The beautiful liquid splashing all around him was deadly. It could kill. It had killed.

It had killed him.

“Mike, you’re getting so good at this!” El called.She was positively beaming.

God, he would do anything to see her that happy.

He would deal with his new fear of the water.After all, he’d been swimming dozens of times before. He just had to be cautious and keep a healthy respect for the sea. If anything, the fear helped him focus on what he was doing, which was a good, because sailing wasn’t easy.

He was picking it up though. El was an amazing teacher. She explained things clearly. She was endlessly patient, gently correcting his mistakes, showing him the proper techniques again and again.She never made him feel stupid, and she was always so pleased when he got something right.He found himself trying hard just so he could make her smile.

Mike walked back to the wheel and wrapped his arms around El’s waist.“I’m only getting good at this because of you,” he told her.“You’re such a good teacher, El. You’re so patient, and you never get frustrated, even when I’m screwing up. You have a real gift for this.”

She gave him a strange look and then her lips curled in a soft smile. “I’m just copying you, Mike.”

“What?”

“I’m copying you. You’ve been teaching me every day for six months. I’m just… doing what you do.”

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. El reached out and stroked his cheek.

“You’re doing really well, Mike,” she said. “It’s nice that you say I’m a good teacher, but I think it’s because you’re so smart.”

He snorted. “Please. If I’m so smart, why did it take me three tries to get that bowline knot right?”

El’s cheeks took on a rosy tint, as if she were blushing, though Mike couldn’t imagine why she would do that. “Um… I’m sure you’ll do better on the other knots,” she said. “That was probably just a one-time thing.” She delicately plucked at his shirt. “I meant to tell you, I really like the shorts you’re wearing, Mike.”

He blinked at the utter non sequitur. “Um… thanks?”

“I mean, you look good in jeans, but I was starting to think I’d never see you in anything else.You look really nice.”

“Oh,” Mike said. Now it was his turn to blush a little, thinking about how paranoid – even downright _weird_ \- he’d been about always wearing jeans. Yes, he was skinny, and yes, he could stand to put on some weight and yes, he could use some width to go with his ever-increasing height.But it was silly to camouflage himself with his clothes. There was nothing wrong with being tall and skinny.

“Well, it’s getting hot, you know?” he said. “Too hot for jeans.”

“Yes,” she said, plucking again at his shirt. She looked up at him and there was something… expectant… in her gaze.

Realization hit him and he could barely hold back a grin. El had just told him he looked nice... and now she was waiting for him to tell her the same.

His eyes wandered her form and his throat tightened. Lord, _nice_ didn’t begin to describe her. She was wearing her little blue boat shoes today, and denim shorts, and a pink linen shirt tied up to show off her midriff. Her slender legs, smooth and lightly tanned, just seemed to go on and on. The way her flaring hips nipped in to her waist made him ache. His eyes trailed up her body, lingering on her graceful neck, so perfect for kissing, even nipping lightly with his teeth...

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and Mike realized he’d been staring. He hoped he hadn’t been drooling.

“You look lovely, El,” he said, and his voice cracked, and she blessed him with the full glory of her smile.

“Thanks, Mike,” she said shyly, but the look she gave him next was anything but shy.He swallowed, suddenly conscious that his mouth had gone dry.

“Um, have we got any water?” he croaked.

“We do,” El said, stepping lightly to the side of the boat where a cooler was pushed against the gunwale. “I’ll get one for you.”

She looked back over her shoulder at him, a little smirk on her face, and then slowly bent over the cooler, keeping her legs straight. Mike’s eyes widened.He couldn’t stop staring at El’s toned thighs and calves, and the way the wonderful swell of her rump stuck up in the air. He barely stifled a groan. Good lord, she was going to give him a heart attack, right there on the boat.

Well, she’d restarted his heart once before. She could do it again.

* * *

**Maine Coastal Waters**

**Thursday, July 10, 1986**

The Eater lurked beneath the waves, watching the boat. The human watercraft moved quickly, carried along by the wind, but the Eater kept pace. His kind were at home in the water; many in the Dark World preferred it to dry land. The humans would not escape him.

The Eater was weak and wounded.With the Gate closed, it would take him months to heal. Still, he had strength enough to obey God’s final command.

_Kill the Adversary._

The words had echoed in the Eater’s mind just before the Gate closed, as the One-Who-Was-All realized the Adversary and her companions had defeated Him again. Obeying God’s command, the Eater escaped into the water as his fellows died in the cave. He fled and he watched and he waited.Now, he would be the instrument of God’s vengeance.

It would be difficult. The Eater could sense the Adversary’s power.In his weakened state he would have little chance in a direct confrontation, so stealth and surprise would be his weapons. Despite her power, the Adversary’s body was small and frail. A swift strike, before she could raise her defenses, would bring her down.

The Eater’s claws twitched in anticipation. Through the rippling waves he could see the Adversary step to the side of the boat. She leaned over, reaching for something on the deck, and her little head came into range of a lunge from the water.

The time had come. The Eater kicked upward, gaining speed, surging toward the boat. The delicious anticipation of the kill filled his heart. He opened his claws.

Dart hit him like a thunderbolt.

The two monsters tumbled through the water, a whirling tornado of claws and ochre blood. Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been a match; Eaters were much stronger than Diggers. Eaters were born to fight and hunt and kill. But this Eater was wounded and hit from the blindside.

And Dart was no ordinary Digger.

He'd fought the Eaters many times now. He’d battled side by side with the Bat-Wielder and watched how the human anticipated blows, tracked movement, found openings. Dart had watched, and learned, and he used those lessons now. He knew where the Eater would swing before the Eater did. He knew the bite would come from the left and he went right instead. Dart fought for his new Hive and he wasn’t afraid.

In moments it was over.

The Eater drifted in the current, surrounded by a cloud of its own blood.

_Apostate_, it groaned, _you have slain me._

_I have_, said Dart.

_You are a traitor,_ the Eater spat. _You demean yourself, consorting with the human filth. You are not worthy to be one of the People._

Dart considered that. _Perhaps the People are not worthy to have me._

The Eater’s claws wriggled in the Dark World’s equivalent of laughter. _Delusions of grandeur. Enjoy your victory today, but know it will be short-lived. God will come for you and His wrath will be terrible. Fear that day, Apostate._

_Fear it?_ Dart said. He latched his heavy claws in the Eater’s neck. _I’m counting on it._

He ripped, with the fearsome power of one who digs in stone, and the Eater’s lifeless body sank into the depths of the sea.

Dart idly kicked through the water, making lazy circles beneath the boat. The Adversary and her mate would no doubt want to couple, as the humans seemed to do endlessly. Dart still wasn’t sure what the Adversary saw in the scrawny male, but he would ensure they weren’t disturbed.

They were his Hive now and he wanted them to be happy.

* * *

**Maine Coastal Waters**

**Thursday, July 10, 1986**

El straightened, pulling two icy bottles of water from the cooler, and Mike heaved a sigh of relief. No, not relief – regret. Maybe a little of both. He could still see El’s sleek legs that went all the way up to _here_, and of course her delightful behind, but now they weren’t so… distracting.

She opened one of the bottles and floated the other across the boat to him. He pulled it from the air, struck by how casually she controlled her telekinesis. She wasn’t even looking at him or the bottle, but peering over the side into the water, a hint of a frown on her features.

“Everything okay, El?” he asked.

She looked into the water a moment longer and then shook her head.“I thought I saw something, but I guess it was just some fish.”

“Oh,” Mike said, and then he took a quick drink of water as his girlfriend crossed the deck and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Mike, I’m glad you came out with me today,” she said. “You haven’t had a chance to enjoy your vacation since you got here. You spent the whole time looking for magic spears, or closing Gates, or being in the hospital.It isn’t right.”

“It’s okay, El,” he told her. “Seriously.I’ve enjoyed my vacation.”

“But how could you, Mike? The day after you arrived, you got hit by a car.”

He shrugged. “It was just a bruise.”

“You got clawed by a demogorgon.”

“I walked it off.”

“And then you—you drowned. And you… died.”

He smiled. “I got better.”

El put her hands on her hips, exasperated.

Mike wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Look, El, my vacation has been fine.I mean, I got to hang out with my girlfriend the whole time — and I don’t know if you’ve heard, but she’s kind of a superhero. She saved my life a bunch of times.When I died… she brought me back.All things considered, that’s not a bad way to spend a holiday.”

El kissed him then. Unable to resist, he slid a hand down her hip and cupped her behind. It was wonderfully firm and yet delightfully soft, all at the same time.His other hand ran up her side, and the feel of her bare skin was like fire under his fingertips.

“So this girlfriend of yours...” El murmured against his lips, “what would she think if she saw me kissing you?”

“Mmm, I don’t know. She’s not really the sharing type.”

“I better be careful then,” she breathed. “Since she’s a superhero.”

They kissed again and Mike tried to lose himself in the feel of her soft, pillowy lips against his own. Something nagged at him though, something about the floating water bottle, and it wouldn’t let him relax into the moment.The softest flutter of raven wings sounded in his head.He broke the kiss.

“What is it?” El asked.

“Well, the thing is — you did save me, El,” he said. “You saved me again and again and again.You have your powers back and you really _are_ a superhero.And I’m…”He sighed. “I’m just plain old Mike.”

El’s eyes searched his face and then she kissed him, hard. Her tongue pushed at his lips, demanding entrance, and she wrapped a hand in his hair. Mike parted his lips and let her in, groaning as she plundered his mouth. She took his hand and pushed it up her side until he was cupping her breast.

He was breathless when the kiss ended.

“Mike,” she said, staring into his eyes, “you will never be plain old anything.”

The look on her face said everything he needed to know. The raven wings went quiet.

Her expression softened as she watched his fears dissolve. A devilish twinkle sparked in her eye. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, Mike, but I have a boyfriend who’s a Paladin.”

“Is that right?” he asked.

She nodded. “He’s so smart and so brave. He came up with a plan to defeat the Kraken and then he killed it. Whenever there’s trouble, everyone asks my boyfriend what to do. He’s really special.”

“He sounds like quite a guy.”

“He is,” she breathed and she kissed him again. Their tongues locked together and then El gasped into his mouth as he stroked her nipple through her shirt. She rocked her hips, pressing herself against his groin, and Mike groaned. He was hard, of course. He’d been hard since she bent over the cooler.

They broke the kiss, panting. El’s face was flushed and Mike knew his must be the same.

Yes, he was definitely enjoying his vacation.

As they got their breath under control, El idly teased the hair at the nape of his neck. “Another thing about my boyfriend,” she said, “he’s really good at sex.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “He is?”

“Yes. He makes me come so hard I turn the lights off with my mind.”

Mike thought it might take surgery to remove the ridiculously proud smile from his face. “Wow. The guy sounds like a real stud.”

El looked confused. “A stud? Is that the same as an ass man? Because my boyfriend is a total ass man.”

Mike gasped and exploded into a fit of coughing.“Oh my god, El! Who told you that?”

“Max did. She said with some guys you can just tell. So, wait — it’s not the same thing as a stud?”

“No!” Mike exclaimed. “A stud is a guy who’s… you know… who’s good in bed.”

El frowned. “He’s good at sleeping?”

“What?No!He’s good at… at having sex.”

“Oh,” El said, suddenly understanding. “Okay. Then yes, my boyfriend’s a stud.” She frowned again. “But we don’t usually do sexy things in bed. We do them outside or on the living room floor. There was one time in the hospital, I guess that was in bed—”

Mike kissed her. They kissed for a long time.

* * *

The afternoon wore on and the sun drifted toward the horizon.The light turned golden, glowing on the waves, and Mike sat on the deck watching the clouds light up in pink and orange.El sat beside him, leaning against his shoulder with one arm around his waist.They’d just finished a snack, cheese and apples and sparkling grape juice that El had packed that morning.

Mike sighed as he felt El’s warmth against his side.This was how he’d imagined his vacation would be.A day in the sun, a sail along the coast, and the girl that he loved beside him.This day was a gift, he thought, and so was every single day from now on.For the first time in a long time, Mike found he wanted those days, as many as he could get.He would hoard them jealously, treasuring every hour, and grateful for every day he was in a world that had El in it.

He wrapped what was left of the cheese and put it away.He paused, surprised, when he saw the book lying at the bottom of the picnic basket.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it out and glancing at the cover:_The Holy Bible._

El gently took it from his hands.She shrugged, stroking the cover.“Lucas gave it to me.I’ve been reading it ever since we found the Spear and you... you died.”

Mike didn’t say anything, just watched her as she ran her delicate fingers over the book.

“Hopper never told me much about God,” El said.“He taught me a little at Christmas time, so I would understand what was going on, but he wasn’t very religious.I think he might have been once, but he stopped when Sara died.He still believed in God, I think, but he didn’t like Him very much.”

Mike nodded, not wanting to interrupt El’s thoughts.

“I haven’t been able to find St. Longinus in here,” she said.“But I haven’t finished it yet.”

“He’s not actually mentioned by name,” Mike told her.“But he’s described using the Spear in the Gospel of John.”

She looked at him curiously.“Are you religious, Mike?”

He shook his head.“Not really.I just read a lot.All kinds of stuff, including this.”

“Do you believe in God?”

Mike thought for a while.“I don’t know.I mean, maybe.In the old days, people used God to explain things they didn’t understand.Science explains a lot of that stuff today.I suppose people don’t need God as much as they used to.”He idly ran a hand over the picnic basket. “But I suppose there’s things that science can’t explain, you know?Science explains... the how and the what.God maybe explains the why.But I don’t really know if I believe in Him.”

El’s brow furrowed.“But didn’t you go to Heaven?I mean, when you...”Her voice trailed away.

Mike shrugged.“Maybe I did.Maybe that forest where I met Barb was Heaven.Or maybe the whole thing was just something my brain created as it was shutting down.You know, my neurons were firing off at random.Maybe they formed an illusion of Heaven in my mind.I really can’t say.”

El nodded.Mike wasn’t sure if she was following everything he was saying, or if she knew what a neuron was or not.But she looked as serious as he had ever seen her.

“What was it like, Mike?Heaven, I mean?Or... whatever that place was.”

He smiled, stroking her back.“It was beautiful.It was the most wonderful place.I felt... at peace, you know?Like there was nothing to be afraid of and nothing that could trouble me.It was... it was like I had everything I ever wanted and I would always be happy.I wanted to stay there so badly.And then I realized you weren’t there.”

El stroked his cheek.“Oh, Mike,” she murmured.

“No matter how wonderful it was, El, I couldn’t stay there.None of it meant anything without you.”

She pulled him down into a kiss and he would remember the softness of her lips in that moment until the end of his days.

He held her in his arms, her head resting against his chest, and they watched the waves.For a while there was nothing but the cry of the seagulls and the quiet fluttering of the sail in the wind.

Mike stroked El’s hair and noticed the pensive look on her face.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“The things you said about Heaven,” she said quietly.“That it’s happy, and peaceful, and that you have everything you ever wanted.”

“Yeah.”

“So it’s like this, Mike?”

He looked around then, at the boat, and the deep green waves, and the pink and orange clouds.He looked at the girl in his arms, the girl he fell in love with when he was twelve years old.Mike knew that he would love her even long after he was dead.He would love her until the universe stopped and the stars went cold.

He pressed his lips to El’s forehead in a gentle kiss.

“That’s right,” he said.“It’s like this.”


End file.
